Greeting Cards
by Kaeru Shisho
Summary: Each chapter is based on Heero’s greeting cards and Duo's mortuary. Although the story is complete, irregular updates are likely. Warning: Yaoi, funeral practices, and those updates!
1. Catch my Heart, part 1

**Greeting Cards**

This is an on-going story arc, which will be updated monthly, at least. Each new story is based on Heero's greeting cards and features a holiday.

The story begins when Duo finds a Valentine card which calls to him, but where did it come from? Who made it and for whom? (Presented in two parts due to length.)

**Chapter 1 --**

**Catch my Heart, part 1 **

* * *

Walking down the street, I happened to find a Valentine-- a card, heart-shaped. Sounds stupid, but it gets dumber that that. I stopped and something made me pick it up. I don't know if it was the pretty red foil or the white lace, but I picked it up and held it in the sunlight to read its inscription.

Interestingly, it didn't have the needy "Will you be mine?" or the more demanding "Be Mine" salutation like the others. It asked with a touch of whimsy:

"_**Can you catch my heart?"**_

What's funny is after picking it up I looked around to see if someone might have thrown it. The nearest building was a one story, so I knew it didn't get thrown from up above. No passing cars or low flying planes, either. I tucked it into my pocket and continued on my walk to work. I was so distracted by the thing that I forgot to stop for my morning caffeine fix at my favorite corner coffee joint.

I went for option "last" and bought a vending machine cuppa swill. All during that day, I thought to myself, "I wonder who wrote it and what they meant? Did it mean their heart was free like a wild animal? Or, was it something more like them wanting to be chased."

No phone messages. No work awaiting my immediate attention. I warmed up my computer and sipped my diluted caffeine beverage while running my fingers over the keys. C'mon, c'mon… I ran a search on the monster search engine just for fun to see if there was anything like a poem or some recently published urban arcana or TV catch phrase, anything to give me a clue about the author-of-the-card's point of view. Nothing. Nada. Lots of cardiology and lots of anti acid websites for heartburn, but nothing to enlighten me as to the card's meaning.

"Damn."

I proceeded to place orders for the chemicals I was running low on and to check the new product pricelists for increases or, more rarely, reductions to take advantage of. None. Nada, again.

The inscription and the heart arrested my thoughts that day. The usual cards I get, well, I toss'em the next day. I don't give them much thought afterwards. In that respect I'm not romantic. I have a good friend, Hilde, who saves every one. Laminates them and wallpapers her bedroom with them, I think.

Would I have given the card that much thought if it had been handed to me? Was it the message or the mysterious messenger?

Justifying to myself that I would have, I freed up a part of my brain to read my email-- for a heartbeat. After all, someone had obviously constructed the heart themselves and they put effort into it. If someone had given it to me personally, I know I'd have appreciated the gesture and the thought put into it. Yes, I thought to myself, I would have indeed appreciated it and kept its inscription near and dear to me. Either I deleted it all or I had no email to begin with; in any case, I made short work of it.

I got on with my life, and when I got home I listened to the messages on the answering machine. Of particular interest was one recorded by my friend, Hilde, begging, "Please escort me to the Valentine's Day party at the Preventer's Hospital."

Her best female friend, Sally Po, was an intern there and had recommended she volunteer to help with the kiddies. So, Hilde volunteered there a few times a week and knew everybody. I think Hilde was hoping to snag a doctor for a husband. I don't know why. Sally's boyfriend was a young cop on the beat.

Anyway, I was happy that at least Hilde had been invited to a party. I had not. I didn't want to let her down, so I called for the particulars.

"Friday night and everyone has to bring one Valentine and dance with the person who picks ours out of a box randomly."

Images like snapshots from a fun-filled vacation flipped through my mind: meeting the man of my dreams, dancing with said man, bringing him home. And as fast as the thoughts struck, I let them roll over me, thinking it too improbable to hope for.

"Sounds fun. Sure."

During the week, of course, I forgot about the party. I hadn't talked to Hilde since the plans were made and my work was absorbing. So, after preparing a TV dinner and plopping in front of the boob tube, imagine my surprise when the doorbell rang and there stood Hilde on my doorstep. As soon as I saw her, I remembered.

"Ah, damn. Sorry."

And, as soon as I saw the disappointment upon her face, I felt like shit.

"I forgot. I'll get ready in a jiff and then we'll go."

I had already gone to the bedroom to change when I heard her say, "You made this card?"

"No, I found it the other day on the sidewalk. Isn't it beautiful?"

"Yeah. Someone obviously put some thought and effort into it and I bet the little girl that did it sure was disappointed when she couldn't give it to the boy of her dreams."

Laughing, I began to tell her my random thoughts about the card. We laughed together and then she asked, "Are you going to put that card into the box tonight?"

"I hadn't considered actually doing it, but in a way I'd imagined what might happen if I did. Don't laugh, but I thought I'd find Mr. Right with that card."

We laughed again and then she said, "Oh, go on. Try it! If it works, I get to use the card next year. Who knows, it might have hidden powers to draw our true loves to us."

When I walked out of the bedroom, she took one look at me and said, "When you look like that, who needs a damned card? It's a shame you're gay because otherwise I'd ask you out myself."

"Well, you did ask me out and I'm going so consider tonight yours, babe."

"No, because at the end of the night, I'll go home alone and you'll still be gay. Cinderella sure didn't have this problem! Nice touch to your braid."

"The bow? You like it? Pink's not too…obvious? No, well, Cinderella had three ugly sisters for competition. You have me and that's it, and I'm not competition because any man that would be attracted to me wouldn't give you a second thought! So, if we meet a guy tonight and he's gay, I get him. If he's straight, you get him."

We laughed again and she picked up the card and put it into the pocket of my blazer.

"Use the card and hope it brings you luck."

"Yeah, thanks. Hungry?"

We went out to my car and she said, "Always. Do you want to go to Chili's? I know you love the place."

"I love the guy's hot asses that work there. Whoever hires for the place has to be gay."

"Either that, or she's a lucky gal that happens to pull in every hot guy on campus." "Whatever. Who ever it is, they gotta good eye for hot guys."

"Yeah, and the food's good, so I thought of that first when you agreed to go to the party with me."

"Good. Food first, sex second. Thanks Hilde-dear."

"And my treat. You inconvenienced yourself for little old me and I'm going to make your night pleasant."

Since it was her turn to treat, I let her. We went to Chili's and ogled the guys. The one who waited on us wore a nametag identifying him as "Quatre" and his snug fitting shirt showed the swell of pecs and biceps. His gorgeous blue eyes peaked from beneath pale long bangs, begging for adventure, and when he turned around, we both scoped his ass.

She looked at me and said, "I'll bet you're wondering if he has skinny ankles."

"Yup."

"It doesn't matter to me if a man has skinny ankles or not."

"Well, you're not a guy and you're not gay. If you were, you'd want those ankles to be skinny so when you threw them up over your shoulders, you'd still be able to hear him cry out your name."

She giggled and said, "Oh, Duo, you paint the mental picture so clearly. I think it'd be hot to see you and a guy go at it."

"Not happening. Not that I'm a prude, but you'd find it intimidating."

"No I wouldn't!"

"Oh, really? When I swallow things down to here and then use my throat muscles, the first thing out of your mouth would be your wanting to know how the hell I did it."

"You can do…that? Really?"

"Yeah,_really._ And, that's not the time to teach friend, who is like a little sister, how to give head."

The sound of throat clearing made me look up. Quatre stood there blushing.

"We're out of creamy Italian, would you like ranch instead?"

"Only if you're the cowboy." I couldn't resist!

He blushed profusely again and Hilde cackled with glee.

"Yes," I saved him, "substitute freely."

He left and she said, "You are so awful."

"Not me! Did you hear him say he was straight? No, little sister, all you got was a blush. That means that guy has thought about it a few times. And I swear I ordered ranch the first time."

"Maybe he figures it's better for the tips if he doesn't profess his straightness to a guy with an ass-length braid sporting a pink bow, but uses the Creamy Italian as his come-on line."

"And maybe, he'll give me his number along with the check."

"No sirree, I'm paying the bill tonight, so if he does, I get the date."

We laughed and I told her she could have him because Mr. Right was going to be a doctor at the party and her guy would be waiting tables at Chili's.

All through dinner, Quatre was attentive and busy. Our area seemed to be flooded with folks and kept him hopping. He didn't give us much attention; however, there were enough sightings of him to make it pleasant. When we got up to leave, he came over with our check.

"Sorry! I hope I didn't keep you waiting. Here's your bill. I trust everything was good?"

"Oh, it was wonderful. Here's your tip. I hope you don't have to split them because you earned it."

"No, we get to keep them. Thank you very much!"

"Well, you earned it."

We left and no phone number was proffered.

(o)

"Why won't you go to the party? I told you about it weeks ago! Our friends are going. It's a chance to dance a little. Laugh. Meet new people."

"Relena, stop! You just gave four solid reasons for his not going. Don't give Yuy more or he might prevent you from going as well."

"She can do what she wants. I'm going to read."

"But Heero! You can't just --!"

"But he has, dear sister, he has. Gone to his room where he will convey in words the secrets of the heart, which others cannot put to paper themselves."

"Milliardo, Heero's a greeting card designer, not a psychiatrist. Look at the time! You must take me, now. As members of the Preventer's Hospital Board of Directors, we ought to be on time."

"Or as the elite of Sanc we can arrive fashionably late."

_Just go, _I thought from the top of the stairs. And for the thousandths time wished I could afford to move into an apartment of my own. A loft somewhere. Where I could draw and write away from the distractions of my patrons. But here I was, dependent on the charity of Relena and Zechs (or is it Milliardo he's calling himself this week) Peacecraft. Sanc was so expensive, but as an artist-designer, if was the _only_ place to be.

_Hn._I felt angry, but mostly at myself. I failed my mission. I was socially inept, again. My masterpiece was gone. My most perfectly designed and heartfelt card ready to be handed over to the man I'd secretly admired the past year. I'd been up most the night and into the wee morning hours creating it and fallen asleep at last at my desk

I was late getting up the next morning and had to dash about collecting clean clothes. I stuffed the card into my outer jacket pocket and ran down the stairs, past the doorman, and down the street. Miraculously, I made the bus scheduled immediately after my bus. I had to run full speed all the way to the coffee shop, the one on the corner across the street from Maxwell's Chapel and Mortuary, a block from the Preventer's Hospital, and a couple more from Sanc University. But I made it on time. I checked my watch and the clock on the wall. My "on time" was a quarter of an hour before _he_ ever showed up. I was only _just_ _barely_ not "on time". A quick survey of the premises assured me that the braided man wasn't there. I punched down my rising worry with the reminder that his arrival time was highly variable and ordered my usual cup of plain tea. My favorite back in the corner window seat was available, proving once and for all that I was not late.

Why was it that I arrived every morning, except for Sunday's and official Sanc-sanctioned holidays, just in time to sip tea and watch the man with the long braid dash into the shop and order his coffee? He seemed fun, generous, and gave me a hard-on with just his voice.

"Double everything and make it a rush! Oh, yeah, that's the stuff. Don't forget the sugar, that's where the energy rush comes from! Whole milk, sure. Do I look like I'm counting calories? Whipped cream and sprinkles, no lid! Cool, keep the change. Thanks, man."

Except this most important morning he hadn't shown, yet. Thinking about him, though, reminded me to check for the card I planned to give him when he arrived. It would say it all for me. It would be the first step to winning his heart. It would be just the thing. It wasn't in my pocket! Shit! I stood and ripped off my jacket, and shook it into a rag, hunting frantically for the glimmer of red or the dainty scroll of white, but it was not there. It had gone chasing another heart somewhere else.

I had lost the card. The perfect Valentine's Day card. The man with the long braid would not come that morning for his restorative coffee, he would not get his card, he would know learn of the feelings I harbored for him.

I had missed my chance. So, it makes sense for me not to want to go to some frivolous Valentine's Day party. If I couldn't meet the man I admired where I knew he would appear, what chance was there for me to meet him at the hospital? Nil to none, especially without my card.

Instead, I opened my laptop and called on Photoshop like a conjurer. Maybe St. Patrick's Day would be a luckier occasion for me. I was not without hope.

(o)

When we got to the hospital Hilde led me to a spacious conference room. Crepe paper streamers and lots of hearts adorned the walls. One table was loaded with goodies to eat. It was all very colorful.

"Man, whoever decorated did a nice job."

"That was me, numbskull," Hilde said, bopping me on the head with her purse.

We hung our coats on the backs of our chairs, laying claim to them, and Hilde introduced me around to everyone. One noticeable fact I'd determined right off was that there weren't many cute guys, and there sure weren't any male nurses who were hot enough for me to feign having "the big one" so they'd give me mouth to mouth.

The band was decent, at least. I would be able to sit and listen and eat, if nothing else. Not unlike being at home, but with more people and no TV for entertainment. The first real highlight of the night had to be getting our drinks from a fountain spewing red punch and seeing the cupid ice sculpture. I thought it looked like the cupid was peeing pink. Maybe because it was a hospital setting, everyone thought that was "unhealthy."

After a short while we sat down. Friends of Hilde arrived, fluttering about our table until they found chairs and lit. We all made polite small talk and I was introduced to everyone. I discovered that Hilde shared many stories about me with her co-workers, and it was my turn to correct them, much to her embarrassment.

She was saved by an introductory whine of reverb then the emcee welcomed everyone. He made quick introductions of those "generous with their time" who helped put together the party and thanked the board of directors for being alive, I guess, because even the emcee had difficulty coming up with a likely reason. "Generous spirit" hardly counted. Miss Relena and her sexy-god of a half-brother floated to the dais, said a few words and drifted off. Okay, "spirit" nearly covered their unreal quality.

When the band began again, I pushed Hilde's chair back and said, "Let me get in a dance before prince charming comes and sweeps you off your glass slippers."

"Forgot them tonight. They make my bunions ache. Twinkle-toes will have to do." she said loud enough for the whole table to hear.

The girls giggled and I chuckled in a manly way then we went out onto the dance floor. After a couple songs, the emcee reminded us to put our Valentine's into the mystery box so everyone could have a "special" dance later. Hilde slipped mine out of my inner blazer pocket and said, "I'll go put yours into the box."

I looked at her and asked, "Did you bring one?"

"Yes, and I put mine in the box as soon as we arrived."

"I wish I had seen what yours looked like so I could see who chooses it."

"It's a typical Valentine's Day card. Not much on excitement, but yours is going to be a hit with whoever draws it."

I agreed and part of me didn't want to let it go, but there it went. I figured the memory of it would be lasting. When we returned to our table, conversation had turned to that familiar "which guy was cute and available." Not that I minded. I had an opinion, too. Everyone seemed to favor a particular doctor and several pointed out a doctor for me.

"Mark's a gynecologist and everyone knows he's gay."

"I'll bet he's glad he doesn't have to bring his work home with him," I said, laughing.

"Yeah, and he's had a hard breakup from what I hear," another volunteer said.

"Oh, be careful," Hilde said. "Don't play matchmaker for Duo. I don't think Mark would appreciate it either."

"That's right," I agreed. "Personally, I don't think I'd like a doctor for a boyfriend. They're gone too much and the thought of making out with one and having a beeper disturb us would be the final straw for me."

Several of the girls at the table agreed and said that's why they didn't even attempt to get a doctor to give them a moments notice.

Hilde sighed and said, "Yeah, but the security would be nice."

Nice, but not enough.

The night went on and I danced with several of the women at the table who hadn't danced yet. Those that hadn't brought dates were the worst off. Sally Po arrived late. Her boyfriend had been on duty "until just now." Chang Wufei looked down the ranks of the table as it he had lodged his baton up his ass, but was he ever good-looking and with a body that hummed "I'm in shape, Goddamit!"

When the time came for the mystery dance, the emcee silenced the band and announced, "form a single line and take turns drawing a card. If you entered a card, you'd be assured of two dances, one with the holder of your card and one with the card you chose. If a card was pulled by someone of the same sex, the card would go back into the box."

Hilde gave me a look and said, "Sorry" loud enough several of the girls at the table all heard her. They thought it wasn't fair. I told them I had expected anything else, really, and would be happy enough to give anyone a dance. Wufei stared daggers at me. They all missed by a mile. No blood drawn tonight. I was the God of Death, after all.

"I wanted a guy to get your card and you to get his," Hilde said.

"Hil, the only way that would have happened is if it were a gay party, and even then a pretty remarkable one. It's not happening here. Don't press the issue."

Her eyes looked askance at Wufei, who appeared uncomfortable with our revelations, and she got the message to shut up. I didn't expect my wait to last much longer. I knew my card would be chosen first, because it felt different from all the rest. I'd used that knowledge a time or two when names and things were drawn from a box previously by curling, crinkling, or folding the entry. More often than not, the gimmick worked. And, sure enough, the first person who put her hand into the box drew my card. It was the hospital administrator, Lady Une.

She looked at it and held it up, exclaiming it was stunning. Hilde sucked in her breath, and then turned to smile at me. She mouthed "yours."

Then the woman read the inscription over the PA system. "Can you catch my heart? How lovely. Whose is this?"

I stood and joined my dance partner, bowing politely.

"Duo Maxwell."

She turned to me and said, "This card's beautiful, and so are you. Let me guess, you're gay."

"Yes, but I didn't make the card."

"You didn't? Wherever did you buy it?"

"That's the thing, I didn't. I was walking down the street and found it. It caught my eye and the message has been on my mind all week."

"It is intriguing."

"Yes, all sorts of scenarios have played out in my head about it."

"It would stimulate my imagination, too, if I let it. You don't mind dancing with me, do you?"

"Mind? Absolutely not. You're a gorgeous woman and I'm sporting. It'll be fun!"

I withdrew a card of my own and called out the name, one of the girls at another table. We agreed to dance after the first one. After that it was her turn to draw, so Lady Une and I moved aside.

She smiled and said, "I know a young man who would like you. He's a … well, not a sweetheart, that's not very masculine, is it? But he's a very good young man and if he didn't have to work tonight, he would have accompanied me. You'd like him. Are you single?"

"Unfortunately, yes. It's not by choice; I just haven't found anyone I want to date beyond the first time."

"Maybe you're too particular?"

"Possibly, but I want someone that can carry the conversation beyond asking me to bed."

She laughed and said, "I know what you mean. When I was younger, I had a hard time myself. There was an old saying that claims 'the girls all get prettier at closing time,' so I took it to heart and I learned to leave parties about an hour before they were set to end so I wasn't propositioned by someone who intoxicated me with his breath."

I chuckled. "Been there more than a time or two. That's good advice, though. Man, it's enough to make me want to stay home."

"Yes, but if we don't go out, we don't find that magical someone."

"Yeah, that's the problem and in my line of work, I'm not going to find anyone."

"What do you do, dear?"

"Mortician."

She laughed. "Let's hope not! I like mine with at least a little blood coursing through their veins."

We laughed, and then I noticed that Hilde got lucky. Her card had been drawn by one of the guys she thought was cute. I thought so too. He stood about my height and wore his light, brown bangs brushed forward and off to one side. Great body, like an athlete.

The administrator saw my gaze. "You here with Hilde tonight or are you friends with Trowa?"

"Hilde. We've been friends since forever."

"She's a great girl. I do wish she'd further her education and get a degree in administration. Everyone likes her and she's a joy to be around."

"Yes, she thinks of me a lot and draws me out."

"Well I hope her magic works on that young man. Trowa works in the lab and he's painfully withdrawn. I'm even surprised he came to this event."

"Yeah? Well, if anyone can do it, it's Hilde. If she hadn't asked me here tonight, I'd be curled up in front of the television."

"That's not fun."

"No, but it's what I do for entertainment when I've got a free night. If I've got a funeral visitation, then I'm busy doing that."

"Do you get called out often?"

"Not for much anymore. Your hospital is more courteous than it used to be. The phone calls in the middle of the night stopped."

"That's my doing. I realize people have lives and the days of having the dead picked up when everyone's asleep is a thing of the past as far as I'm concerned."

"Thank you, really. It's a blessing. Now, the only problem I've had is if it's snowed and not been cleared. And the other times when that slope to the loading area is one long sheet of ice. Even a four wheel drive can't make it up that."

"I never knew. I'll get that changed."

"Oh, I'm not complaining to get things changed. I keep a bag of ice melt in my truck for that purpose."

"No, you're complaining about the inconvenience and you've got a job to do just as I. If I can make others do their job easier and safer, then so be it." She smiled and added kindly, "You're a sweetheart, too. Do you mind if I introduce you to my friend?"

"Does he live in this area?"

"Yes, and he's in college. Graduate school right here in Sanc. He works at night and his time is full, but when he's through with college, he'll be staying in this area."

"What's he studying?"

"He's going for his MBA. He can fill you in on his family's business."

"But you know what he's going to do in this area when he gets out of school."

"Winner Corp subsidiary, Presidential Suites, is building a hotel here and he's going to be managing it for them."

"That's a tall order. Has he been hired? Or, is that how the family business works?"

She winked at me and said, "I saw a niche which wasn't being met. So, I franchised the hotel along with his family. The hill that's right next to the University, over there across the road from the entrance is where it's to be built."

"Oh, that's an excellent location."

"Yes, we wanted a location within safe walking distance of the hospital. Also, we wanted a location where someone could choose to stay if they've got out patient treatment."

"Handy. How big's the hotel going to be?"

"We're planning on two hundred suites. It's going to be a conference center and have a big enough space that wedding receptions and banquets can be held."

"It's going to have a full service restaurant?"

"Yes, and swimming pool and sauna, exercise and recreation facilities"

"Sounds like you've thought of everything. That sure is a big load for an untested guy right out school."

"He's a hardworking young man. Very driven, in some ways. Like you, I think he would like someone to share his downtime."

Soon enough, all the cards had been doled up and everyone paired up that was interested and our dance began. It was a slow song and she danced close. "Your cologne is fascinating."

"That's not cologne."

"It isn't?"

"No, that's my natural smell. Hilde loves it."

"She's not alone. It smells better than any cologne I've smelled."

"Yeah, it's bad when I play sports because as I sweat it is way stronger. And, when I put on cologne, it mixes with it the result smells awful."

"Amazing. I wish… well, others were so lucky. I could get used to sleeping by someone who smelled as good as you."

We laughed and she said, "When you're done, give me your number, or I can have him contact you at work?"

"I'll give you my number. I'd hate to tell people twenty years from now my partner met me at a funeral home. It could lead to a lot of bad jokes."

She laughed and said, "Yeah, I can imagine someone telling him at least he picked the live one!"

She paused and then said, "I'm sorry. It's not a joking matter."

"No, but I get plenty of mileage from it too, so don't worry."

She smiled and said, "Yeah, I imagine. You do know that profession has an extraordinary number of alcoholics."

"Yes, that's why I don't drink on the job. I rarely drink otherwise. I told myself early on when I interned with one that I'd never do it. That man went out and greeted families smelling like pure whiskey. How they didn't know is beyond me and how he never had a wreck in the hearse some nights is really beyond me."

"Where'd you intern?"

"With the Sweepers out of L2."

"Really?"

"Yeah, if you're familiar with L2 or the Sweepers, then you're probably familiar with whom I'm referring."

"No, I'm from Sanc, but I think I know who you mean. That man sometimes comes to get the bodies."

"Yeah, what I'd do in your situation is wait until after five PM so the intern is the one that comes. There's no sense of having a family go through anything more than they do."

She nodded and appeared to make a mental note to herself. "I'd rather call you. This has been lovely, Duo. When I agreed to this, I was worried. I'm really glad it was you."

"Me too." I smiled.

When the dance ended, I went to her table and met her boyfriend, Treize Khushrenada, and her other guests. I shook everyone's hands and then gave her my home number and cell. She took a look at the card and asked, "Do you want it back?"

I did, but then I thought it might make a good impression on him, and who knows? He could be "the one." "Please, give it to him with my business card. Tell him it came from someone who wishes he'd come tonight."

She smiled. "Maybe it was for the best he didn't. After all, you two wouldn't have had the chance to dance here, and that would have been a shame."

"Yeah. If that's something he likes to do. I'll arrange it so we can if we go out."

"He had dancing lessons when he was a boy, if that counts for anything."

"Thank you. That only means he can, not that he likes to. We'll figure it out, if he calls."

"I think he will. Thank you for being so nice. Oh, here comes your card draw to claim her dance. I hope she enjoys you a much as I have."

Okay, that made me blush. She laughed and introduced us, which got us started to the dance floor. It went fine but was uneventful. When the song was over, I returned to Hilde's table, but didn't sit down.

"Ready to go?" I asked her.

"Yeah, he's already gone." Hilde was all dreamy eyed.

"Who?"

"Trowa. He asked me out!"

"Wonderful! Goodnight everyone." I played the gentleman and helped her into her coat and guided her to the exit. "When's the date?"

"We're going out next Friday night. He works Saturday evenings, yuck, but that means you and I can get together and gossip. His name's Trowa Barton. Oh, Duo, I'm so sorry you didn't get to meet someone."

"Oh, my dear Hil, but I did!"

"You couldn't have. You danced with Lady Une."

"And Lady Une has this very nice friend that couldn't be here tonight."

"I don't know who it could possibly be." She bounced into the passenger seat thinking for a few moments. "I thought I seen all the folks that worked here."

"Lady Une made it sound like he worked nights, and not here."

"Really?"

"Yeah, she said he had to work tonight and he in school during the day time."

She smiled and said, "Wow, you okay with someone who could be younger than you?"

"Damnit, girl, he's in graduate school!"

"Oh, that's better. I just know you like guys who are more mentally mature."

"I like guys, and I like guys whose first words aren't, 'You wanna fuck?'"

"No, that's usually your line."

"Nah, I lead them to the water but I let them decide that."

She chuckled at that. "You're quite a cool drink of water, too."

We continued in that manner all the way to my place, which was next to Hilde's building. When we got to my house, she hesitated in the car. "Do you want to go do something else?"

"No, I've got an early day tomorrow. I've got a ten o'clock and a two o'clock."

"Ooh, you're a busy guy."

"Yeah, but not for a lot of people."

That was the problem with my job. A good year for me was a bad year for so many others; still, I wasn't the one putting them to death, just putting them to rest.

I asked her about her guy again, a better topic. She told me she was thrilled to meet him. He was so quiet and she didn't want to be forward, ask him out, and scare him off. He'd not made any moves towards her because he was shy and didn't mix with anyone at work.

"So how did Mr. Bashful manage to draw your card?"

"He didn't. Someone else was on call and had to run, so he gave my card to Trowa."

"That's kinda sweet."

"More like _fortunate_. I think we hit it off. I hope you and your mystery man do too."

She gave me a hug and we agreed to call each other tomorrow night then we parted ways at the car, she to her place and me to my apartment. First thing in the door, I played back my messages on the answering machine. Being a single guy should have meant my phone was busy a lot. Sadly, the bulk of the calls were business related. People calling and checking funeral times, updating obits, and a few cold calls from salesmen mostly ate up my answering machine. I'd been lucky to have only two non-visitation funerals tomorrow. Usually, Friday nights for me were spent at the funeral home.

After returning the calls, I went into my bedroom and laid out my suit and accessories for the morning. I showered, languishing in the pounding heat until it turned chill. Clean body, clean teeth, clean boxers and I was ready for bed. I was just about to doze off when the phone rang. I thought about letting it go to the message system, but instead, I picked it up without looking at the caller I.D.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Lady Une gave me a Valentine's card and your phone number. She says she spoke with you about me and thought we might have a lot in common. She's got pretty good taste, so I'd like to know if you're still interested."

"Sure, when do you have an open night?"

"Well, Sunday night's good for me. I don't have to work and that will give me time to finish any homework."

"Great. That's good for me, too. Say, an early afternoon date then?"

"That's fine with me. The name on the business card says Duo Maxwell."

"Yep, my name's Duo."

"She said she didn't want to spoil the surprise and just gave me the card and your number saying you were a nice guy. Great card, by the way."

"Thanks. I liked it."

"You own the business? You're not old are you?"

Duo laughed at that. "No, I'm twenty four."

"Oh, good. Me, too! Sorry, but she set me up once before with someone really old and that was uncomfortable."

"I can imagine! So, ah, what's your name? She didn't give you away, I guess, so I'd never know you turned me down."

"Well, I think it would be polite to at least call you and let you know if I wasn't interested at all. Anyway, my name's Quat; it's short for Quatre."

"No kidding? That's not a common name. Where do you work, Quat?"

"I work at a restaurant called Chili's. You been there before?"

Now, I swear to you parts of me were standing up doing a cheerleader routine and parts of me were really kicking myself in the tail for being the way I was earlier.

"I've been there a time or two. I don't suppose you want to eat there on a date?" "No! It's not that I don't like their food, but I want to be there more than I have to."

"Makes sense. Let's see...how about if we meet somewhere and then we can decide?"

"How about the coffee shop across from your, ah, business?"

"Okay, what time do you want to make it?"

"How about three o'clock. After the lunch shift. And that gives me time to shower."

"Right. Okay, I'll see you then, and Quat?"

"Yes."

"We could have met earlier if you'd said something tonight."

"Huh?"

"Yeah, a friend and I ate dinner at Chili's earlier tonight. I was the one with the long braid."

"Oh! I remember you! You were the hot guy who was talking about giving head!"

"Well, I don't know about hot."

"Awesome! I'm glad it's you. I would have given you my number, but if you had been straight and been offended, I would have been fired."

"I wanted you to."

"Really? I'm really happy now!"

"Well, I'll see you on Sunday, Quat."

"I can hardly wait. What are you doing tomorrow?"

"I'm busy tomorrow. My job."

"The mortuary. Now I wish lady Une had told me more about you!"

"Well, actually, I own the funeral home. I hope that doesn't bother you?"

"No, everyone's got to have a job."

"Just so we're cool."

"Yes. Oh, I should get back to this paper I'm writing, but I don't want to now!"

"I don't want to hang up either."

"I won't get any sleep thinking about you. I'm so glad it's _you_."

I laughed at Quatre's enthusiasm, and said, "Me neither. You don't know how much I thought about you after we left Chili's."

"Me, too, Duo! And when Une gave me that gorgeous Valentine's Day card, I actually wished it had come from you."

"Well, I'm glad things worked out the way they did. It shows things are meant to be when it's destined to happen." I thought about the card, what had it said? "_Can you catch my heart?"_

"You really think so? I kept wishing after you'd left that I'd found out something about you, or had been less busy. Your hair…hat braid's really hot."

"Thanks. You're really sweet looking yourself."

"I try and keep in shape. Do you play tennis?"

"No, but maybe you'd teach me?"

"Yeah."

"Quat, my eyes didn't lie to me. What I saw was fantastic. Hilde's going to die when I tell her who you are!"

"Why?"

"We both thought you were hot and both of us were checking you out."

"Really?"

"Yeah. The conversation you overheard was about me telling her the only thing I didn't know if I wouldn't like on you was your ankles."

"What!"

"Yeah, I got this thing about a guy's ankles."

"That's funny."

"Yeah, and she said it didn't matter what your ankles looked like. Then she said she'd watch me do it with someone and I told her she'd get jealous and then started talking where you apparently heard."

He laughed and said, "When I walked up on your conversation, it was hard for me because I saw you and thought you were hot and then, I was telling myself you were straight and then when I walked up and you were telling her about giving head, then, I told myself you were taken."

"Nope, single. A lot of people are put off by my job."

"That's stupid. You don't live at the funeral home, do you?"

"Oh no. I used to, but moved to an apartment a mile away."

"Well, I really wished you didn't have to work tomorrow."

"I'm sorry, but that's the way it will be for me unfortunately."

"That's okay. It will be that way for me, too. Most of my available time will be taken up by my job. I work four nights a week. You can count on me not having Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturdays available."

"That's fair. I know most of my night visitations will be Tuesday through Fridays."

"Why?"

"Well, people go out on Friday night and get drunk and then decide to wrap their cars around trees. So, then figure the funeral will be on Wednesday, making Tuesday night for the visitation."

"I never thought about all that."

"Yeah, so that's why my schedule is like it is."

"Well, what if I ask to see if my schedule can match?"

"That's a lot of trouble if we find out we don't get on. Why don't we wait? You don't want to give up your Saturday night tips, right? Besides, we'll have Sundays."

"Cool. I can't believe you're from here and gay and I've not met you before."

"Well, it amazes me too since I usually see most of the town at funerals and visitations. If you'd been at the funeral home, I can almost assure you I would have known your name and most of your family's names."

He laughed and said, "That's funny, but my family uses a different, ah, service. There's a family plot in L4."

"Gotcha, say, Quat? Lady Une said you're going to graduate school for management and told me what you've got for your future. I'll say now… I'm impressed."

"Yeah, what sucks is having to be in the family business. Great opportunities, but few choices. I shouldn't complain, though. I'm lucky."

"Well, you never know how things change. That's why they call it the future. Hey, I hate to say this, but I've got to get off here, otherwise, I'll be a walking zombie tomorrow."

"Me, too. Why don't you take my number?"

"Okay… well, let me see...yeah, I've got it on my caller I.D.. I'll program it in so I have it. You'll save mine, won't you?"

"Of course! I got your house and cell numbers."

"Okay, then…"

"Your cell will give you messages, right?"

"Yeah, or if you text or beep me, I'll get the number so it's fewer minutes if you're on yours."

"Good idea. I'll program a message in now that I can send quick and then have my number afterwards."

"Okay. Well, goodnight, Quat."

"Goodnight, Duo."

As soon as I got off the phone, I called Hilde. When she answered, I could tell she was asleep.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Hil, I'm sorry to wake you."

"No, that's all right, It was only beauty rest. You don't know what that's like since you don't need it."

"Lots of laughs, Hil-baby. I'll take every second you don't sleep and then that won't be enough. But, the reason I called is you're not going to believe who Lady Une's friend is."

She suddenly sounded awake. "Who?"

"No, not an owl."

"You're so funny...I'll go back to sleep now."

"Well, if I told you, you'd shit the bed."

"Try me."

"No, you've got to guess otherwise it's not fun."

"Dammit!"

"Ok, but when I just tell you like this, you'll wish I made you have fun."

"Duo!"

"Ok, but I wish you'd at least guess because not in your wildest dreams would you guess."

"Dammit Duo!"

"The cute blond guy from Chili's! Quatre!"

"NO!"

"Yes,"

"Really!"

"Yeah, he called and when he told me his name, I asked where he worked and as soon as he told me, parts of me were dancing around like a cheerleader and other parts were wishing I'd kept my mouth shut earlier."

"I bet I can guess which parts of you."

"No, no fair, you wouldn't guess earlier, so I'm not letting you guess now. I told you that you'd be sorry."

I chuckled and she said, "When are you going to meet him?"

"Sunday afternoon. We're meeting at my fav coffee shop and then we're spending the rest of the afternoon together."

"Great. Do you have an idea of what you'll do together?"

"No, but since we know we like each other already, we'll probably do something really cool."

"Go someplace out of town. The variety of restaurants and the driving time would give you plenty of time to talk."

"Nah, I think we'll go someplace close the first date and then I'll bring out the big guns. If I do it the first time, he'll expect more and that's not fun."

"You're nuts. You already told me he liked you. What did he say?"

"He said he thought I was hot when he waited on us and wished I was gay. Then, when he heard me talking, he then wished I was single. He was afraid to give me his number."

"Good thing because I would have taken it. SO, does he have skinny ankles?"

"I don't know, but he thinks it's funny we were talking about it."

"YOU told him THAT!"

"Why not?"

"You're going to give him a complex. He'll be looking at his ankles now and wondering if they're fat. That's how anorexic people get complexes Duo!"

"No, I promise you that when his ankles are on my shoulders, I'll kiss them and tell him they're perfect."

"You're so funny. I can see you doing it too."

"You're my little twisted minx. You spend too much time getting mental pictures of me with guys."

"I think it's neat."

"Well, I don't think of you in bed with anyone. That'd gross me out."

"You!"

"No, it would with me thinking about any girl, Hil. All I wish for is that you are in love when you finally do it."

"Who's to say I haven't done it already?"

"Me. You would have told me."

"Yeah, you're right. It's not that I haven't had the opportunity; it's just that I've been scared."

"Oh, you're so sweet."

"Yeah I know..."

"His name was Quatre, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, you forgot already?"

"Tired, plus all I can think about is Trowa."

"Trowa?"

"Yeah, he's a dream boat."

"Okay, if you say so."

"Oh, I say so. He's a lab tech."

"When you date him, I'll have to have 'the talk' with him."

"No, you'll scare him away."

"Well, if his intentions aren't good, then he'll _need_ scaring away."

"True. Just promise me you'll be gentle. Now, Duo, shush up."

"Okay. Well, I'll get off here now."

"No!"

"Honey, I've got an early day and you know how long they seem."

"Well, we still on for tomorrow night?"

"Yeah, what do you want besides pizza?"

"Fruit and cool whip."

"You're funny."

"I can't help it. It's been our thing for like forever...watching movies and sharing jell-o with fruit and whipped cream."

"Yeah, Thank goodness it wasn't something gross."

We laughed and she said, "Duo, I love you. Goodnight."

"Goodnight babe."

When I got off the phone, I lay down and it wasn't three winks before I was asleep.

**TBC in****Chapter 2 -- Catch my Heart, part 2 **


	2. Catch my Heart, part 2

**Greeting Cards**

This is an on-going story arc, which will be updated monthly, at least. Each new story is based on Heero's greeting cards and features a holiday.

**Chapter 2 --**

**Catch my Heart, part 2 **

* * *

I was sorry to have to shutdown my computer at three AM, but the performance utilities were lining up, screaming for a chance at the CPU. When I balanced FLASH, Photoshop, Word, and fifty other processes for ten hours or more, either I or my laptop would require a break. 

I knew everyone else would be asleep, which meant it was safe for me to go downstairs and rummage for food. I was saving up. Saving up my need to eat, my energy reserves, my money, all that. Saving all I earned for a place in the country where I could work surrounded by something not urban. Where I could be inspired by something not man made. Where I could share a quiet moment or two with a lover. It was my dream to have some purpose and have someone love me and make the world a better place in some small way.

I realize I'm very repetitive. When something works I use it until it breaks, even when it doesn't work. Relena claims I could bend steel with my bare hands. Hardly, it would snap in two first.

She says all the time, "Branch out and try new things, Heero."

I do, but it only shows up in my work. I design greeting cards. Artsy ones. Very _pretentious_ ones. I also do freelance illustrative work that's art, creative and thought-provoking. I also _artfully_ fight off the advances of the most eligible female in all Sanc.

God knows why Relena likes me. Well, I saved her life once. A thief pulled a gun on her and I took it out of his hands and brained him. Knee jerk reaction. If I'd let him shoot her, then I'd be floundering on my own. Not so bad, maybe. Oh, I didn't have to take the free room and board she offered, but it was easier than arguing. And she was nice. Is _still_ nice. She believes my artistic sensibilities make me the way I am.

"Heero, you are so aloof," Relena says.

I am _gay_, not aloof! Not that she believes that.

I felt good about the latest run of cards for St. Patrick's Day. I'd completed them all and loaded up a DVD to take to the printers the next day, which was here already. The new cards would be processed, paired with matching envelopes, already supplied, and on the shelves of the cutting edge gift shops by Tuesday afternoon. Everything was carefully timed. I dealt exclusively with the one printer, and they never let me down. I made them tons of money, too. I could pull up the figures and calculate the exact amount when I wanted to.

I planned to work some today, but I'd take Sunday off. Sunday I would take a stroll through town. I would get my best ideas on Sunday, and carried a notebook with me at all times to record them. I sketched pictures and jotted notes. I had filled two notebooks with pictures of the man with the long braid since January.

It doesn't matter. Notebooks are cheap. Under a dollar when I buy them in bulk.

Monday, I'd finish the spring line of on-line greeting cards. Having completed most of the dime store varieties months ago, left me time now to concentrate my efforts on those few "one of a kinds" for the specialty market. I already had a couple ideas for new April Fools' Day cards. Bunch of baby bunnies running around—"the man promised me the clearance ones were all boy rabbits!" Heteros like to flaunt their reproductively.

I knew I wouldn't see the braided boy at coffee shop on Sunday, but I'd go there anyway. He took that day off and wouldn't need the coffee. I liked to people watch there and went every day of the week. People liked to buy cards about their coffee-drinking habits, too.

"Heero, you should get out more and meet people," Relena frequently told me.

Well, I did; at least, I saw people. I wasn't a total recluse, just picky and I'd picked the man with the long braid.

So, I had my plan. Sunday, I'd people watch. Saturday, tomorrow which was already today, I would catch up on my sleep, personally deliver the DVD of cards to my printer, and color that special card, a St. Patrick's Day card, for the braided one-- and add the inscription.

Brilliant, arching rainbow leading to a pot of gold – "Feeling lucky?"

No, too obviously lame.

Brilliant, arching rainbow leading to a pot of gold – "Can you find my heart of gold?"

Better.

Brilliant, arching rainbow leading to a pot of gold – "Can you win my heart of gold?"

That would do for now. I would leave room to add something else, when I thought of it. The Valentine had been my best effort. I'd put my heart into that one. He would have loved it and seen me, had I not lost it. I wonder what happened to it all the time now.

(o)

The next morning, when I awoke, I did my usual and in three action-packed moments I was out the door, on the bus, and on my way to my coffee stop. Saturday morning and I had the place to myself. Didn't anyone else have to get up but the one lone coffee jockey and me? Didn't seem like it. Even the gloomy artist, who sat in the back seat like he had reserved seating looking mysterious and oh so sexy, never showed up on Saturday mornings.

Opening a funeral home in the morning was an ordeal, mostly because I made it that way with my security and precautionary measures adding on the most time. First thing I did when I bought the building (thanks Howard, I'll never be able to repay ya,) was to install a refrigerated, concrete vault in the basement to store bodies in caskets overnight. For one reason, I wanted to be safe in case a fire ever broke out. Each night, the casket and contents were safely secured in the basement in the vault by me or my intern. And speaking of interns and assistants, I was currently one short, having fired the last one for doing drug trades at the back door—asshole.

Anyway, the bodies in the vault added to my morning routine. When I opened, I had to go down to get the body and bring it up to the viewing chapel. Also, any other _remains_ stayed in the vault until time for the funeral. The security and cold protected against all sorts of things besides just fire, like deterioration, but primarily, it protected against desecration of the bodies.

How likely is that to happen? You wouldn't believe how often folks just go berserk. See, when someone dies, it's safe to say there's going to be someone who's upset. A family member could be distressed with the person for dying or offended 'cause the dead guy failed to mention _to them_ they were going to die in the first place. Then there are the folks feeling wrongly left out of a will. All of these situations can have another person lashing out at a body. It's crazy, I know, but I've seen it all-- from someone stealing jewelry off of fingers, to cutting keepsake locks of hair, to knocking a casket off the stand.

When I got into the business, one thing I decided was not to cut corners where it counted. A lot of funeral homes do. I planned long and hard and was really fortunate to get the loan I needed from a guy that charged me near to no interest for the first couple years (I owe ya Howard). When I had my place built, I designed a chapel which everyone thought would be too big. It might be for the average circumstances, but I've had viewings where upwards of two thousand people showed up in my chapel. It's a common situation in smaller towns where everyone knows everyone or where a favorite teacher or a well liked businessman passes and many folks wish to pay their respects—but it could happen here, too, and Sanc was a really big city-state.

As I said, when I had mine built, the understanding was that there would be a line out the front door of the home and down the street around the block, and out past L2 if need be to accommodate the visitors. And I can tell you, if you've ever done that in the driving rain, during a white-out blizzard, or under a blistering hot sun, then you understand what I'm saying and can appreciate the benefits of a big chapel. I have done it all and I have one hell of a kick-ass, non-denominational to boot, chapel.

Personally, if you asked me what I prefer, I'd tell you there won't be a viewing or a service for my remains. Quite honestly, I think a lot of people's last memories of a person is that person resting in the casket. I'd prefer someone's final memory of me to be of me in life enjoying my moments with them. That's why there won't be a funeral. Cremation and send my ashes into the sea.

Getting off that subject, this was Saturday and the funerals on today's docket were going to have meager attendance. My two o'clock wouldn't even be interred. She was a state mental home client who passed. In this instance, her body had been donated to science for medical purposes. When the dissection or surgical practices had been completed, they had sent the body to me for "fixing up." So today a simple viewing was scheduled. Afterwards, the body would be cremated and placed in a small lot reserved for those interments.

The reason I was here so early was because I had a funeral first thing. It would be small, but I imagined there would be some people attending. Sadly, the matron had outlived all her family and most of her friends. When the last goes, the only mourners were folks who might have known the person and the "hobbyists." That's what we call the people who feel it's their duty to honor anyone who died, whether they knew them or not. They just show up spontaneously and attend randomly. Weird, huh?

Needless to say, my day was short. I was home way before four that afternoon, which gave me time to pick up the place, make some cherry flavored jell-o, and do the laundry before Hilde's visit.

(o)

Quatre and I agreed to an informal-type date, so I wore black Dockers and a blue pullover sweater, which would match his eyes, if I recalled the color properly. I figured I'd be early if I left now, but since I had nothing else to do and had no idea what parking might be like around there on a Sunday, I snagged my keys and wallet and danced out the door—literally. I think it was a two-step.

I'd be damned if that cool looking tea drinker wasn't there guzzling his endless supply of brew and writing in his little notebook. For the love of God he lived there. I swear! What I needed now was a film crew to descend upon us. The director late, muttering under his breath in a diatribe against the traffic, the weather, and the lack of proper ambiance. He would specialize in black-and-white mood films.

The story… an examination of Dante's Inferno. It opens with an introspective on the newest, Ninth Circle, depicted here as the bottomless cup, whose sole occupant wore loose black sweaters over white t-shirts and for whom "bad hair day" was first named.

Now for a camera close-up on the eyes. OhmyGod! They matched my sweater. They were beaming in on my sweater. Now on me! He was staring at me! Then, we were interupted.

"Duo! Hi, I'm Quatre. This is real, isn't it? The braid?"

One tug on the braid and I was spinning in a circle and shoving the "tugger" down on a table. I may be short and slender, but I'm strong. Try moving dead bodies for a living and you'll see how weight lifting pales in comparison.

"Eeek! Sorry?" he squealed, but he did release the braid so he could hold up his hands open-palmed by his face in about as non-threatening a submissive gesture as I could imagine.

I was sorry, too, but, man, don't ever yank on my braid. I gave him a no-hard-feelings hand up and brushed the crumbs off his back. I heard a strange gurgling sound and looked up in time to catch Mr. Bottomless Cup chuckling in his dark little corner window seat. Okay, so the director just wanted to misdirect the film from noir to comedy, or something weird. While his crew was helping itself to coffee and doughnuts, the film was going down, sucked beneath the earth, sinking down, down.

Dear God! The sweater was all wrong. My date's eyes were turquoise, big, HUGE, and staring at me, while the sweater was cobalt blue. The sweater-matching eyes from the other side of the room were almond-shaped, an odd combination that would make the guy memorable even if the rest of him faded into oblivion. I saw his expression alter, which, for a moment, I thought was an open invitation. Then he looked down to contemplate the scribbles on a page of his notebook. Change of script?

"What was that?" Quatre asked.

Had I been rambling aloud? "You want to change you shirt, Quat? There's a stain forming--."

He didn't reply to this, relegating my remark to the conversational quicksand in which I was generally sunk, as he dabbed at the spot with a napkin.

"Okaay… I'll bet you didn't want to rinse your hair in coffee dregs right off the bat, right? Sorry about the reflexes. Ah, can I buy you something to drink? Coffee? Tea?"

"Or _me_?" Quatre said then he laughed. "No, thanks. I just got off work, remember? I've seen enough of food and drink for awhile. Can we go someplace else?"

"Sure, ah—"

Quatre surprised me with a sweet kiss on the cheek. He wasn't all that shy, after all. It would have been okay, had we not been out in public in my regular place. I didn't like scenes. I made them, but I didn't like them, and here's why. For some reason, I looked over at the window seat just in time to catch that pair of sharp, blue eyes whip around at me quick enough to cut.

"—Ah, so where to? Museum? You like art?" I asked. I was throwing up words like a shield before me.

In a voice a little bit louder than I would have use, my date replied, "I may be gay, but I'm not _that_ stereotypical! How about we go bowling?"

"Bowling? (gag) Oh, okay. I'm not very good, I gotta warn ya."

"That's okay. I'll teach you _all_ the moves."

Yes, he said that. Aloud. In public. In my regular place. I tried to say something smooth and move quickly and invisibly to the door, but the leading man with the only script and the deadly, cobalt-blue eyes were wrestling me to the mat. And then over into the quicksand.

_Thunk, suck. _

Next thing I knew, Quatre was wheeling me out the door in a triumphant arm-in-arm kind of waltz. Luckily, my car was parked right there. We hopped in.

"Is this a hearse?" he asked me.

"Yes. Yes, it is," I told him, because that was what I drove. "So, where's a bowling alley?"

(o)

At least I had one burning question answered—well, two. The man I was attracted to-- the man with the astonishingly long braid-- was named Duo. As a sidebar, he was gay. Also, I believe I witnessed his first meeting of a new date prospect, and fuck if he wasn't hot, too.

If I hadn't lost my Valentine's card, it would have been Duo leaving with me instead. We would have understood the import of my message, fallen in love instantly, and asked me out. We would have visited the museum and after that, if he was interested, I'd have taken him for target practice. Or the zoo. Or to the computer store to shop for a new external hard drive. Whatever he wanted.

I lost interest in my day off after he exited with his date, so I returned to the Peacecraft's palace to listen to music and think. Relena blocked my progress at the anteroom.

"Heero, you're home early. Come in here. Dorothy's here and we need another for bridge."

I agreed, if only to distract my mind from the vision of the man named Quatre kissing my beautiful, woven-haired Duo.

(o)

"Yes, Hil, I had a good time. _We_ had a good time together, once I got my head together."

"He was that distracting, eh?"

"Well, kinda, but there was this other guy, a regular at the coffee shop. He was there watching."

"So, you and Quat were that entertaining?"

Okay, I didn't want to answer that for any number reasons. First, Quatre "outted" me to my place, entertaining staff and patrons alike. Second, I can't remember. Third, I wasn't about to tell my buddy how distracted I'd been by the presence of the arty guy with the killer eyes.

"What do you mean by 'killer eyes'?"

Oh, damn. Talking in my head and aloud at the same time _again_. "I don't know. I had this feeling we were being filmed."

"What has that to do with his eyes?"

"Ah, nothing much. I said I didn't know!"

"Uh, huh. And who is this guy? Anyone I might know?"

"Just some guy. An artist or poet or something. He's just a guy I see all the time at the coffee shop, that's all."

"With 'killer eyes'. You say he was part of some film crew?"

"I don't know, do I?"

Now I'd made her mad, I could tell, but, damn, I was stuck. "That guy laid his exotic eyes on me and I went crazy. There. I said it."

"When you say 'film', this isn't another Infernal Inferno nightmare, is it? What is it with you and that book?"

"You gotta be kidding? You ever read about the Circle Seven? He lumps sodomers right up there with murders and bandits!"

"Duo, honey, we've been over this before. Dante's inclusion of sodomy--understood here as sexual relations between males but not necessarily homosexuality in terms of sexual orientation--was consistent with strong theological and legal declarations in the Middle Ages condemning such activities for being 'contrary to nature.' Still, and this is the important part, it obvious wasn't 'contrary to nature' because it's stood the test of time. And we all know how nature cuts the weak out so the strong can carry on. It was natural for those dudes as it is for men like you today, and we know it was a widespread practice because in Dante's day, male-male relations were common despite the denunciations. Penalties, including confiscation of property and even capital punishment, didn't stop the practice."

I had to laugh. "You just can't fuck with nature."

"That's right. Although the poet met with Brunetto in hell, the Dante-character and Brunetto showed great affection and respect for one another during their encounters."

"Who knows how far that went?"

"Not me. Now, that we're done examining your inner brain cavity, it's back to discussing your day. So, you were waiting for that drool-worthy, blond bombshell for your first date, and you get off on this other guy? Are you insane?"

"Oooh, not so loud! Man, jeesh! Quatre was there. Remember? He "outted" me when he kissed me and grabbed my hand and towed me out the door. 'Course, I was stuck in quicksand at the time so he had to."

"What is it with you? Feast or famine. No boyfriend then you're beset with two!"

"Hilde, Hilde, Hilde," I said in a sing-song manner. "Not two, not even one. Quatre and I had a nice time, but it's too soon for the boyfriend honorific, and as far as the artist dude is concerned… I think he's homophobic, if the death glare he gave me subsequent to the kiss thing was any indication."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

"So, what did you and Quatre do?"

"Bowled. He golfs, too. Shit rich with a membership in a country club."

"No!"

"Yes!"

"And he's working at Chili's? No!"

"Okay, his family's loaded and he's really a great guy trying to earn his way into the real world. He's liable to quit as soon as he gets a paid TA position at the university. We had a good time. Shared some laughs. I think we meshed pretty good. He wants more than a fast fuck and values friendship, so at least there's some potential. We're meeting for drinks after my work and his classes this week, and then we'll take it from there."

"Oh, so it's got possibilities?"

"Yeah. He's intelligent, independent, and I can envision getting hot and heavy with him in the future."

"But Mr. Killer Eyes made you lose your mind with just a look."

Don't remind me. "Yeah, well. I don't wanna lose any body parts so you can lose that look of yours and forget me pursuing a fag-hater."

"Putting a new spin on the "killer" part of his eyes. Okay, enough of you," Hilde said.

After that we discussed her upcoming date with Trowa and her latest hospital gossip. I had a busy week with a pile up of work, so I signed off early and caught up on my sleep. I cleared my mind of blonde bombshells and exotic-eyed artists, kicked out the film crew and their manic director, swept my mind clean of all sexy males and their attendant posses. Thus vacated, my brain shut down and let me rest.

(o)

Duo's visits to the coffee shop were short-lived all week long. This was nothing new. He dashed in, ordered, and, with his whipped-cream-topped cup in hand, he dashed out. His usual activity, except he added a little gesture on leaving Monday morning. It was like a salute with two fingers held stiff and straight, clipping his right eyebrow. Quick and sharp and directed at me. And then he skipped out the door. In this way we connected, however briefly, and this was difficult to explain, because he never got my Valentine card and we'd only crossed paths, so to speak, by accident the day before. But connect we did.

Tuesday, I returned his salute with one of my own. I'd given this a great deal of consideration overnight and came up with a unique move. I tapped my forehead with my mechanical pencil. This was both manly and friendly. It was also different from his and yet evocative of my penchant for writing at the table. I'm certain he noticed and appreciated the trouble I'd gone to for him, because he cast me a smile. He smiled and looked a little surprised and pleased at this stepping up of our game.

We greeted one another with our special signals again on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. I never once saw him that week with Quatre, or any other person, man or woman. Our connection made, I wondered if the new card I'd created for him would even be necessary?

I decided I'd take the next day off to celebrate my little victory. I would begin with tea then at nine, when the museum opened, I would visit the new exhibit of over 1,400 glass paperweights spanning all periods, designs, and techniques. Should Duo wish to go in the future, I'd be happy to see it again, I was sure.

(o)

"Hey, Hil! You okay?"

"Yeah, just tired. Friday … long week… It's after midnight. Tired, you know?"

"Tired? You? It's not _that _late; was the date a flop?"

"No, not really. Trowa's a very nice guy, it's just… he's so quiet."

"Well, you're not. That should work out."

"Yeah, I guess it did at that. He took me to dinner and a movie after that. It was fun. He's not crazy about his job at the hospital. Lab work is so repetitive and exacting." She sighed into the phone so I could hear it. "He's got this sexy voice. I wish he'd use it more."

"Hey, don't worry. You had a good time, right? Some guys have a hard time talking to girls, at first, until they get comfortable. And you knew he was introverted to start with."

"You're right. I don't know why I'm so blah. Hey, I got an idea!"

"Why do I know I should hang up about now--?"

"Shut up and listen. Maybe Trowa'd be more _comfortable_, as you say, if it wasn't just him and me—just for a date or two."

"Oh, no… I thought he was asocial or something like that."

"_Shy_, Duo. He's not neurotic about it or anything. C'mon, just meet him. Help me out."

"Ehhh--."

"Coffee shop in the morning. He told me he has work in the morning and it's not that far away."

"Weeell…"

"Well, yes. Better yet, invite Quatre! That would be like hanging out together."

"I don't know if he can make it. He's got classes. And Saturday morning's probably his only sleep-in time."

"Ah, c'mon, try! You don't want to make him think you've forgotten about him, right?"

"Right. He knooows I think about him. I called him and we have a date Sunday, so there."

"Duo,_pleeease_?"

"Okay, I'll call and see."

"_Now_! Then call me back right away and I'll call Trowa."

"Okay."

I don't think Quatre was excited about missing his Saturday sleep-in to meet me for coffee, but he was a good sport about it all, especially since he'd just fallen asleep when I'd called. A better natured dude I've never met, but apparently I would, because Hilde's new date was also game to gather at the coffee shop, despite of his so-called lack of natural societal clumping drives. I had an evening interment, but Saturdays, well, I never knew in my business. So, I turned in all the while wondering if Hilde and I weren't overcomplicating things too soon.

(o)

Imagine my surprise when not just Duo, but the blond man I'd seen him with once before, Quatre, a young lady, and another sexy, athletically built man were gathered at a table. It was a Saturday morning and Duo beat me to the coffee shop. I don't know how long I was standing in line for my tea. I might have remained there all afternoon, had Duo not stepped up to place his own order.

"Hey."

He spoke to me! My throat tightened up so hard it threatened to crush my vocal cords into vocal threads. I cleared it roughly. "'Lo."

"Um." He looked at me and then at the coffee jockey. "If you're not having anything, think I can cut in front?"

Of course. I stepped aside and gathered my wits, while he ordered something complicated. When I was ready to speak intelligently again, he was moving to the side to wait. Once again, he caught me off-guard by speaking to me directly.

"Ah, I noticed your place was taken, you know, by the window? We gotta couple extra chairs. Wanna join us? We, ah, pretty much just all met, 'cept me and Hilde, who's been my buddy for years. Oh, I'm Duo Maxwell."

"'Eero, um," I coughed and tried again. "Heero."

"Heero? Cool. So, ah, looks like my order's ready, and look! They made up yours, too. You _do_ have some kind of arrangement with the owners here, don'tcha?"

I nodded, even though I meant to shake my head "no", and followed him to his crowded table, even though I intended to find a solitary spot near where I usually sat. My excuse? He was carrying my tea and I followed that. He kept my tea just out of reach as he conducted introductions, so I paid close attention to his words.

"This is Heero, who hangs out here more than anyone I know. Heero, this is Hilde…"

"Hi, Heero."

"And this is Trowa… and Quatre, who I think you've met."

Quatre smiled and held out a hand. "Not formally. Hi, Heero."

"Hello."

"Quat's going for his MBA and waiters at Chili's," Duo told me. It didn't explain how they met and what their relationship was, though.

"Tro's a lab techie at the hospital with hours as terrible as mine, it seems." Again, what was this new acquaintance to Duo?

"Hil runs a lady's boutique, volunteers for at the hospital, and moonlights at the dump--."

"That's salvage garden, to you. Sheesh! My uncle owns the salvage business on the edge of town—"

"The far edge,' Duo put in.

"And I've worked out there all through school and sometimes now and then when he—"

"When he's desperate!" Duo said for her. "Huh?"

Duo reached for his cell phone and stared at it a moment before taking the call. "Duo Maxwell, here. Yes. Yes. Sure. What's the address? Oh, yeah, I know the place. Okay. Right. Bye." He pocketed the disturbance then said, "Guys, I gotta split soon. I have a 'pick up' not too far away, but I gotta run back and get my, ah, vehicle first."

"A pick up? What's that?" Trowa asked.

Hilde looked at Duo who looked back at her, clearly trading "who would provide the background material" back and forth. She lost the bout.

"He has to pick up a dead body and take it to the funeral home."

Then the name dawned on me. "You are the Maxwell of Maxwell's Mortuary."

"Bingo!" he said.

If he was afraid everyone might get up and leave, he was wrong. Trowa's eyes lit for the first time since I'd joined them. He looked to me for support, I think, so I nodded. That did the trick.

"Just so you know, there is nothing you might tell me that will hurt my feelings about my business or that I haven't heard before. Funeral-related work has been called the Dismal Trade for years. At one time it was overrun by sanctimonious conmen and carpetbaggers, insidiously exploiting the bereaved at the moment of their greatest weakness."

Trowa chuckled. "Well, the same could be said of the medical industry," he said. He recalled an instance of the useless droning of a doctor that perfectly illustrated his point. It was the most he said the entire time we were at the table.

Quarter joined in, describing academia as if it were—

"…deserving of one of Dante's categories in Hell," I inserted.

Duo must have been deeply offended, because he looked as if I'd struck him a blow to the solar plexus. But I didn't know what I'd said that could have affected him that way. Before I could apologize, his phone beeped again, and he announced that he had to leave. At the last minute, he turned at the door and saluted me with a half smile. I guess I was forgiven, partially.

"Well, if you boys will excuse me a moment, I've got to visit the 'lady's'," Hilde said, standing.

I moved and let her out from her booth seat. This left me with Quatre and Trowa. We sipped our drinks and avoided eye contact until Quatre finally asked me how long I'd known Duo.

"We are both regulars here," I said truthfully.

"I see," he said.

But of course he didn't. I didn't. Who would? But then he broke down and spoke openly and honestly.

"Oh. It's just that Duo and I just met, really, and it seems like everyone has known him for some time, except you, Trowa. I'm just a bit insecure. He's a very entertaining personality. I think I've just seen the top layer. Still, he and I have some things in common that can't be denied."

I had to ask. "What's that?"

"Well, we're both gay. Does that make either of you uncomfortable?"

To my surprise, since he was dating the girl, Trowa shook his head, and offered, "I'm bi."

Which left me to say something. "Gay."

"Well," Quatre said. "Isn't that remarkable?"

"What is?" Hilde asked on her return. "Sorry, but there was a line, if you can believe that, and the cleaning lady was there. What did I miss?"

Trowa's cell phone jingled and he shot out of his seat. "Work!"

"Oh, that's right. Bye! Call me later…" Hilde's voice trailed off as he disappeared out the door in a blur.

Quatre stood to leave. "It's been pleasant meeting you all. It's nice to be included as one of Duo's friends. I hope we can all get together again." He smiled amiably, leaving Hilde and me to say goodbye and watch him part.

When I stood to go, she reached out and held me in place. "He's right. You do have killer eyes."

As I removed her hand, carefully so as not to break the bones, I asked, "Who? Duo said that?"

"Yeah, he couldn't stop talking about you last week. I don't think he expected to see you here this morning, but I could tell he was pleased. The thing is, he's my best bud and I won't let anyone get on him because he's gay. He's had a rough life and made something of himself and just met a great guy with potential. I don't want some guy with a chip on his shoulder wrecking his chance at happiness. Get my drift?"

I did, but I didn't. "Why would I interfere with Duo achieving his happiness? I hardly know him."

"He was under the impression that you didn't approve of the gay lifestyle."

I couldn't think of a reason why. "That's not true. I don't know what that lifestyle entails in your mind, but I'm gay. It's not something I flaunt, though."

I couldn't read her expression, something between confusion and enlightenment, I'd guess. We were saved from further revelations and conversation by the incessant ringing-- her cell phone this time.

"I gotta open the shop. Sick employee. I want to talk to you more, but later."

I noticed my window seat was open and immediately claimed it as she left. After being out of my element for half an hour, the familiarity of my spot with the accustomed point of view, no-nonsense surroundings, and relaxing feel was comforting. I had a lot to think about. For one, Duo talked about _me_ to the girl who was his best friend. He was interested in _me _even though he thought I wasn't gay, which was odd. He thought about _me_ all week. Another bit of information came from Quatre. He and Duo had just met, as I'd thought, and weren't a couple. Not yet. Not. Yet. This meant that I had a chance. And Trowa was new to the grouping. He was dating Duo's best friend, who was a girl, but was bisexual. How did he fit in, I wondered?

I dwelt among my thoughts in my place by the window, collecting myself, when I realized how late it was. If I didn't hurry, I'd miss the opening of the museum. I was always on time. I hated being late. Now, I'd have to rush to get there on time.

(o)

The next week was a replay of the week before, but Duo added a verbal greeting to our exchange of salutes. He even paused at my table on Wednesday.

"Would you like to sit?" I asked him. It was a clear invitation.

"I would, but I've got a fresh one waiting for…ah... you don't want the details. Just wanted to say hi and find out what it is you write in that notebook of yours. You a poet?"

"I dabble." I held up a page.

"That's me! You draw! Artist! That was my first guess. Cool. Thanks. I'd like to see more sometime, but now, damn, I'm pushing it as it is. Gotta run. See ya!"

Not more than ten minutes later Quatre and Trowa swung by. Quatre shadowed my table, and when I looked up, he smiled.

"Hello, Heero! Duo been in yet?"

"Yes. Come and gone. He was rushed and facing a heavy load of work."

"Oh, too bad. Trowa and I just ran into one another outside thinking we'd just show up. Thinking the same thing!"

I looked from Quatre's glowing face to Trowa's guarded one and shrugged. "Must be magic," I said.

"Well, I have a few minutes. Want a coffee, Trowa?"

"Sure."

"Be right back!"

Quatre skipped off and Trowa remained immobile. "You mind? I know I don't like to be bothered most of the time."

"You're not intruding on anything important. Oh, he's calling you. Better see what Quatre's up to."

Trowa shrugged off his jacket and strolled to the counter. I was about to return to my list of ideas, when a flash of red caught my eye. I couldn't believe what I was seeing! Quatre had his briefcase open. In his hand was a red heart outlined with white, lacy paper. It was my lost Valentine! I could tell from twenty feet away! He must have just pulled it from his briefcase and now had it flat on the counter, face down. He had a pen! He was scribbling on the back. His phone number? Trowa was writing on the back of a napkin. His number? Were their exchanging phone numbers? I tore my eyes away from the Valentine card as they traded numbers. They were smiling, eyes locked. Even a blind man could sense their mutual attraction.

Is this what my Valentine had come to? Not drawing Duo to me, but sucking him into a mire of hurt? As I watched from over my tea cup, their fingers touched and the smiles grew more significant. My chest ached with the knowledge that my dear Duo was in for a bad time. Hilde would blame me, and she'd be right.

After that, I couldn't remain in the coffee shop any longer that day. I pealed out the door without bothering to say goodbye. I had to prepare my next card for Duo.

**TBC ****(in time for St. Patrick's Day) Chapter 3 -- Chasing Rainbows  
**


	3. Chasing Rainbows

**Greeting Cards**

This is an on-going story arc, which will be updated monthly, at least. Each new story is based on Heero's greeting cards and features a holiday.

I left this off the previous chapters, but shouldn't have:

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters. I make no monetary profit off this story.

**Warnings: AU, male/male pairings, language, embalming and autopsies in detail**

* * *

**Chapter 3 --**

**Chasing Rainbows**

A St. Patrick's Day story

* * *

First thing when I get home, I check my messages, except this time the phone rang the instant I touched it.

"Hello? Duo here."

"Hey, you're late."

"Hil, yeah, I am. I'm about dead on my feet and don't turn that into a joke. What'sup?"

"It's a long one. Call me back when you've had a bite and some unwinding, okay?"

"I'll be in bed by then."

"Then call me from bed."

"Pervert. Bye."

I made it to the kitchen, beer in hand, pizza in the microwave, when the next call came in. I let the message system kick in.

"Hi, it's, ah… Trowa. When ya gotta minute—"

I dove for the receiver. "Tro!"

"Is this… Duo? You all right?"

"Yeah. Making dinner. Long day."

"Then I'll make this brief. You need a hand in the mortuary? I'm a lab tech stuck in a dull as cardboard job with autopsy experience. I—"

"Say no more." I knew he'd appreciate me saying that. "Meet me tomorrow at the coffee shop."

"Better be early. I work."

"Early then. I'll give you the low down. If you still are interested, I'll take you into the crypt and we'll talk money. If you're still interested, you're hired."

Trowa was laughing on the other end of the line. "Rough day, huh?"

"Don't start me up. Fact is, I need help and my student interns are for shit and unreliable."

"Yeah, they are here, too—at the hospital. Well, then eight o'clock?"

"Sure. Bye."

It didn't even occur to me to ask where he got my home number. I'm usually suspicious, so you know I was exhausted. I ate, showered, and crashed. Then I remembered to check my messages and got up to do that. More work. Folks were dying to see me. Ha, Ha.

I rolled into bed and my cell phone rang.

"I didn't forget! I just got horizontal!"

"Duo? You sound wasted."

"Oh, sorry, Quat. Yeah, I am and I thought you were Hilde calling again. She's hounding me tonight. You, however, I'll talk to."

"Did you forget? I was coming over. I called earlier, but you weren't home. I didn't leave a message."

"Sorry again, dude. Bad day at the office."

Quatre's laugh was musical. "Well, it's too late for me to come now, isn't it?"

I hadn't had sex in awhile with anyone, besides myself, so I could warm up to a nice, sexy blond as well as the next guy—true and enduring love or not. "Man, I like you, you know that? Any other guy woulda used that for the perfect setup for an overnight stay."

"Not every guy is looking for sex at every opportunity, Duo."

"No, just the ones I attract, 'cept you."

"Thank you."

He was giving up _way _too fast! "You could come over and I could try, I don't know. I don't wanna fuck or anything."

"Me neither. I've, ah, never. It doesn't even intrigue me, to be honest."

"Oh yeah?" That was a new one on me. I could be _intrigued_ big time. "Well, that's cool. We are on the same wavelength then. How about some hot and heavy? I might be able to manage to suck you off?"

"I don't know, Duo. We're still in the early dating stage."

"I could put in a DVD and call it _dinner_ and a movie?"

Quatre, God bless him, laughed hysterically. He excused himself politely without making me feel too let down and then signed off. Ten minutes into my log-sawing, the phone rang.

"Ugh."

"Ugh yourself. You forgot to call me!"

"Hil, I can't converse." I couldn't beg sex off my current "flame" either. What good were my people skills anyway?

"Then just listen and grunt. I'm used to handling the whole conversation after dating Trowa, who I'm mad at right now."

"You called me to complain about Trowa?" Dear God, I hoped not.

"Among other things, but, first, your gaydar is seriously inoperative."

"Didn't say I had any."

"You don't even have the equipment."

"Hey! That's getting personal!" And way too close to the mark!

"Point being, Heero is gay. He told me, so, you'd better come up with another reason for him giving you dirty looks."

Well, good for you, Hilde, the prier of personal histories from the souls of men.

"Oh," I said aloud, while my thought processes clicked and whirred ahead. Heero? _Gay?_ Well, who'da guessed? Not me, obviously, but then I wasn't on the hunt, was I? I had a guy I was dating, although, our progress past the good friend stage was painfully slow. That put me in mind of my lackluster sex life. Again.

Hilde took that for what it was worth and moved on with a vengeance. "I am impressive, I know. No need to thank me either. Back to Trowa. You won't believe this. He had your card! That Valentine card!"

Heero, gay, Trowa, card. I could follow a script like no other and improvise like a pro, even when I was half asleep. "How can you be sure? There could be more cards like it (however unlikely). Besides, Quatre has mine."

"It was _yours_. Trowa had _yours._ Don't be stupid. I told him it was _yours_ and took it from him."

"Nice, Hil."

"You'll thank me in the end. I looked it over to make sure it hadn't been messed with. You know, like it didn't have any new names or writing on it."

"Nice…"

"And found two phone numbers. One was your home one and the other, well, I called it and you'll never believe who I got."

"Then why bother telling me?"

"Guess!"

"Ah…Quatre."

"That's right! How did you know that?"

"I didn't, but since Trowa called me on my cell and he'd probably called the house, hadn't gotten me, and, so, called Quatre to get to the next level of the Duo calling tree, and then that's how he got my cell number. Why?"

Hilde had fallen silent.

"Hil? You still there?"

"Yeah, it's just, well. Damn, I thought maybe your boyfriend was messing around behind your back."

"Oh. Well, Quat's not really my boyfriend. Not yet. We are still in the 'early dating stages' as he calls it, which means, I assume, he can share his phone number with whomever." I tried not to sound as hurt over that as I was. "And Trowa's looking for a job with me, so I don't think he's going to be sneaking around and jeopardizing that. It, ah, sounds like you blew it with him, though."

"Yeah, for you, you ungrateful queer."

I was sputtering my "indebted to you forever" noises, which she ignored as she moved on. "Yeah… oh yeah. I think I proved I didn't trust him. It's okay. Trowa and I weren't going anywhere, and we both knew it. Friends forever and all that. See, for a mate I need a talker. Like you, but one that lusts over me not my ex-es."

"That was only that one time, Hil—"

She brushed past me and our sordid pasts at the speed of light. "Yeah, yeah… Which reminds me, that man you know from some walk of yours Mr. Clairvoyant?"

"The painter, Mr. Claremont? What about him?"

"He was checked in with pneumonia, I think it was. Thought you might wanna know."

"Yeah, thanks Hil. I'll check by his house and see what I can do. Well, if that's all, then—"

"Not at all! I'm getting to the important part. Sally was spitting nails—"

"Hypos. She's a doctor, or just about, so she'd spit hypos." I yawned and turned over, finding the most comfortable position ever.

"Spitting hypos, then. All because Wufei wasn't going for detective or something like that."

"Ambitious."

"Right. He's not ambitious enough. That's what she told him. I don't know if that's the case or not, but he's got pride and that set him off and they were yelling at each other in the stairwell when I was leaving."

"He doesn't like me."

"He hardly knows you, Duo. And can you blame him if he's biased against gays? The Lucky Strike, that gay leather and motorcycle club? It's on his beat."

"Pretty raunchy."

"Terrible dive. So, I backed away from that nasty scene, their argument not the club, and took the elevator by way of the vending machines. Talk about gross, awful, and revolting—"

"Let's not."

"The coffee outta that machine could remove the gum off shoes, I swear! Anyway, I got to my car and saw Officer Chang racing around. I thought he was gonna arrest me for parking in the staff space even though I'm not officially staff, and started coming up with a good excuse. But that wasn't it at all. He blushed and went all stuttery."

"That's not a... (I yawned wide enough to split my face in half) word."

"I'm_ using_ it! Listen! I embarrassed him in the stairway-- with the yelling and all. He wanted to talk more—to me! We're meeting in the coffee shop tomorrow then walking over to my shop so I can open on time. And talking. About what? I can only guess our mutual friend, Sally. What do you think?"

I had drifted so far into dreamland that her voice sounded very far away, as if she were at the far end of the tunnel I was about to leave, or had left, running, fast. And then I woke up, it was 2 AM, a full moon was glowing through the curtains directly into my eyes, my cell phone was dead and my phone was off the hook. I set my alarm clock, hung up the receiver, and plugged my cell into its re-charger. The last thing I thought about was an orgy featuring Quatre, Trowa, Heero and me. All together, but I was the featured entertainment.

(o)

"Heero," Relena said, jolting me out of my private meditations over dinner. "Have you given more thought to my offer of a gallery show?"

I shrugged without consideration or forethought and finished swallowing. "I haven't material to show. To create sufficient work for a show would take months. In the meantime, I have orders to fulfill for my cards, the winter holidays for the bigger companies in particular."

"But that was all part of my offer! You have no expenses. I'd see to it that you had an allowance, so there would be no need to produce those silly greeting cards at all. You could devote yourself to Your Art. The Sanc Gallery Nouveaux would be perfect. Dorothy loves your paintings—"

Here I stopped her. "Painting. There's just the one."

"And that's the problem, isn't it? And I'm offering the perfect solution! If you started now, we could secure the most desirable dates in November and December."

But how would I save for my dreams? My move to the country? But then, selling paintings through the most prestigious gallery in Sanc was part of my dreams, too. How could I know if this path wouldn't bring me closer to my goals sooner?

Milliardo must have taken my silence for resistance, because he inserted himself into the conversation. "Relena, my dear sister, it is quite possible that he's passionate about his little cards. It's a smart business that could grow and make him a tidy sum. Not all artists are only in it for the ART. Not everyone is destined for greatness, either."

I did not like the man at all. I admired his posture and hair, and he did have elegant manners, but his mind was poverty stricken. And he resented my being there. At that moment I wanted more than anything to wipe the supercilious smile off that man's face. I nearly took Relena up on her offer just to prove him wrong. But was that his intent? Double-teaming me to get me more entrenched, more dependent on them? More beholding? I couldn't see any reason why. What was it that Relena saw in me that was worth any sacrifice on her part? It was far more likely that he saw me as a gold-digger and wanted me out of his house, far away from his younger sister.

"But Heero is going to be one of those great painters of our times. I just know it! Please, Heero, tell me you'll think about it this week, okay? This week. Give my offer serious consideration. You'll do that for me, won't you?"

"This week. Yes," I agreed.

Milliardo steeled his gaze directly on me, so I returned a bullet-proof expression and a stare that could cut through diamonds. I was certain Milliardo and I would end up fighting sooner or later, and prepared myself for the former. He rose, swept the room with a fan of platinum hair, and said on his way out the door, "Yuy, I can't be your friend."

That suited me just fine. I didn't want or need his friendship, but I was disappointed not to have broken his nose. Another time.

And time seemed to be moving faster and faster. I noticed Duo came into the coffee shop alone Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. I wondered what had happened to the blond and the romance I suspected was developing between him and the green-eyed man. Was Duo even aware of it or had they broken up? I wouldn't ask Duo, of course, and he never complained or talked about his private life. He, in fact, had a hectic work schedule and hardly stayed long enough to scald his throat with a hastily consumed drink and ask how I was doing.

"Fine."

"Yeah? That's swell. Well, gotta run, not that my customers are going anywhere fast, heh, heh. See ya later!"

No, he was far too cheerful to be getting over a break up. I assumed he was far too busy to even notice his boyfriend slipping away. Then on Thursday, the situation came to a head. I didn't want to watch him suffer heartbreak, when both Quatre and Trowa entered the coffee shop. It wasn't eight in the morning yet. I wasn't sure whether I wanted them to finish ordering and join me or find a private table. Trowa chose a small table for two by the door and Quatre pulled up a chair to join him. Did I secretly want Duo to walk in and discover…? And then there he was at the door. He sailed in on the love boat, smiles and friendly slaps on the back. Drink in hand, he hardly had to wait anymore because the morning guy knew him, he sat on the edge of their table.

I watched his braid slip from his back, around his shoulder, and coil with a heavy thunk onto Quatre's lap. The little blond had the audacity to pick it up and rub it against his cheek. I was on my feet, appearing instantly at the crowded table, ready to save the braid from those cheating hands.

"Hey, 'Ro. Next time, guys, find us a bigger table." Duo smiled at me then at Trowa, who was standing.

"Hello," I began. My eyes met Duo's but my attention was still on Quatre's game with his hair. He used the tip to brush crumbs off the table!

"Yo guys! Grab that table emptying over there!"

It was Duo's close female friend, Hilde. She was dating Trowa—could things get more complicated? Yes, because she wasn't alone. At her side was a strikingly handsome police officer. I was blocking everyone's path to the new table, so I moved and claimed it with a hip check to the sister thinking the same thing. I maneuvered myself into the corner, ignored her glares, and warmed to the praise of Duo's friends congratulating me on my quick reflexes. While we waited for Hilde to get her order and introduce her mystery man, Quatre regaled us about his classes, work load, and explored the possibility of getting tickets to a Sandrock basketball game one night.

We all nodded lamely and listened, although Trowa listened with interest. Then I remembered the card I'd made for Duo. How in hell was I to get it to him? I wasn't foolish enough to make a scene. I was torn between letting Duo know the card was from me and keeping it a secret entirely. He had a boyfriend, a girlfriend, a circle of friendships. Why would he need mine? Losing myself in my gloomy thoughts apparently had become my favorite pastime.

"Shove over!" Hilde was back.

"'Fei," Duo greeted the policeman. Great, he knew this guy, too.

"Wufei, this is Heero, Trowa, Quatre, and Duo you met. Everyone, this is—"

"Officer Chang," the man announced. He stole the warmth from the room. My tea rimmed in ice.

I moved over and felt a pin prick. When I'd moved over ever further on the bench seating, the items in my pockets moved. One was stabbing me now. I reached in, grabbed the pins, and scattered the metal clip-ons across the table.

"Ooooh! Shamrocks!" Hilde cooed.

"It's St. Patrick's day. These could bring you good luck." As I explained, I used the diversion to reach around Quatre's back and stuff the card into Duo's coat pocket. He would receive it anonymously.

"Cool," Trowa remarked, rising to he feet, clover leaf in hand.

Duo pinned his to his lapel as he stood up. "Thanks. I can use some good luck. Well, gotta run. Catch you all later."

And Duo left … with Trowa! I felt like an idiot sitting there speechless. Was he dating both Quatre and Trowa? Good luck charms be damned.

(o)

"Don't worry, Duo. This is more important," Trowa said.

"Okay. Don't wanna get you in trouble missing work and all, but _seeing_is "the thing", I say. You either get hooked or not."

I led Trowa around back to the employee's entrance to my funeral home, typed in the pass-code, and stepped inside.

"Funny," Trowa said, although his voice inflection was missing.

I looked up and noticed the hand painted sign which greeted me daily and which I'd long stopped noticing. The ghoulish drips hanging from the lettering had been a weak attempt at humor.

**The Cadaver Keep**

"Oh, yeah, well… it was funny at one time," I explained. We walked to the private back entrance and I keyed in the code to unlock the door. "There's a room here were you can change into coveralls, gloves, and, on occasion, a mask. We'll go through all the motions, okay?"

"Fine with me." Trowa smiled. His gaze traveled the room, taking in the less gruesome symbols of the job. "Cool. There's enough mystery about the job to be intriguing."

He held the ugly mask up to his face and batted his eyes at me. This was a nice change. I hadn't seen him so lively before. Now I knew we'd get along great. For me, getting along with the folks I worked with is a priority. In the changing room, we slipped into coveralls, grabbed masks and gloves, while I rattled on.

"Always check the incoming list. If there was anything urgent while you were out, I'd note it here. Never know when you don't have any work."

"That happen often?" Trowa asked.

"Nope. Oh, here's a pen for taking notes, but be careful not to put it in your mouth."

Trowa took the offered pen and notepad. "I wouldn't do that."

"Good. You'd be surprised how many people must. About 100 people choke to death on ballpoint pens each year," I remarked with a smile.

"You could avoid the pens and computerize it all."

"It mostly is, but the hospital and rest homes all call and leave messages that I gotta write down and enter later and others give me paperwork, so it ends up being faster just to layer the papers on this clipboard and fill it out and file it that way. I do my scheduling on the computer, though. I'll show you later."

I noticed Trowa scanning his surroundings. He was either very cool or had his "cool" mask firmly attached. We could have been in a circus tent for all the effect it had on him. I let him get a good look of the main embalming and autopsy "suite." Mine was dry and well lit. Autopsy tables, some with built-in plumbing: irrigation hoses, suction tubes and drains lined up in the center of the room. They were overhung by lights just like those used in operating rooms to help see into dark body cavities. Also in the room was a lightbox for viewing X-rays, a scale for weighing organs, and a camera stand so interesting findings could be photographed. I was ready to handle a crowd.

I flipped through a clipboard of papers, verifying what I already knew, added notes to some pages, based on the evening's recorded messages. "I'd like to have a night and day crew, be running autopsies and investigative work as well as burial preparation."

"You think big, Duo."

"Yeah. I got plans. I'd like to staff this place so I could take a day off without losing business. I'd also like to live out in the fresh air someplace and see trees. Oh well, unwinding has to happen on my walks to and fro the bus stop for the time being. Those are the autopsy tables."

"Look familiar."

Yeah, the guy was cucumber cool as he examined the waist-high aluminum fixtures. Basically the tops were a slanted tray (for drainage) with raised edges to keep blood and fluids from flowing onto the floor- plumbed for running water, and had several faucets and spigots to facilitate washing away all the blood released during the procedure.

"These are cool." Like some older facility out of a horror movie, the room still had two marble tables for the drier embalming steps. Trowa seemed to like the feel of the cold slabs. "What's the work like?"

"Almost no autopsies, any more. Mostly, those are done by a medical student from the university at the hospital, but when things get busy, we get the overflow."

"Yeah, or more likely techies like me. So you don't get autopsies often?" Trowa asked. By his flat tone, I couldn't tell if he were hoping for it or not.

"No. I've been too understaffed. Anyway, this morning I gotta do an embalming on a body delivered by the hospital. Says here the autopsy was already done."

I put away the work orders. "Bodies for post mortem examination or embalming are kept in the refrigerated storage room. It's down in the basement. This way, if you have time."

"All I got is time," Trowa said. When his smile widened and stuck, I knew something was up. I just waited him out, figuring he'd play me straight.

"After I talked to you, I called work and left them a two weeks notice message, and I'm taking today off. All I really have to do is go in to the hospital and put in a personal appearance later."

"Hope I didn't talk this job up too much," I said.

He chuckled. "As if…"

"Okay, then we've gotta great day ahead of us." I led the way downstairs. Many hard, steep, cement steps. "There's a freight elevator, don't worry!"

"Didn't see you draping bodies over your back for the climb."

His cool demeanor amused me. I wondered how much longer he could keep it up. I could see how he was definitely not Hilde's type. She needed someone less subtle and sly. I liked him more and more. It didn't hurt that he laughed with a purr and slinked around quietly like some big cat. Where Quatre was cute and cuddly, when I had the chance to snuggle with him, like a kitten, Trowa was stealthy and sexy like a hunter. Heero I put firmly in the wolf category, big, big dog, and I can't say why. Maybe the way he watched Quatre, as if he might devour him. He either wanted to kill him or fuck him bad. Both thoughts made me feel sad. Kicked puppy dog sad, which brought me to the bottom of the staircase.

Trowa shuddered and steeled himself at the door or for the job, whatever it might entail. He was either reacting to the morgue ambiance, finally, or the rush of frigid air as I opened the sealed door. A couple gurneys, one holding a sheet-covered body, sat in the center of the room rimmed by a wall of locked steel-plated doors.

"Valuables?" he asked me.

"Those are for provisional cases. You know, suspected murders with possible evidence or contagious diseases," I told him, "I call them 'purgatory,'" meaning the steel lockers, "And here is limbo."

Inside the cold-storage room, 'limbo', Trowa took over and wheeled out the shrouded body on the gurney. Up the freight elevator and into the first room we went. Trowa wanted to observe an embalming and I had one, so there we were. Trowa helped me transfer the body to the cold surface.

"Bathroom's over there," I indicated to him with a tilt of my head.

"I don't need..." he began, but when I pulled off the sheet and revealed the autopsied body underneath. "Shit..." he muttered.

He flew to the bathroom to lose his breakfast. Not _that_ cool a cat then.

The young girl's still form looked like a wax model. The chest was cut open, hollow, fresh from the hospital autopsy. After all the post mortem procedures had been performed, the body had been left an empty shell, with no larynx, chest organs, abdominal organs, pelvic organs, or brain. The front of the rib cage was missing. The scalp was pulled down over the face, and the whole top of the head was gone. The organs had been disposed of at the hospital.

Obviously, not optimal for lying in state in public view-- or for Trowa's unprepared brain.

"You all right?" Duo asked Trowa on his return.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. It was just that...it was unexpected."

"Yeah, usually men wake up as good-looking as they went to bed. It's the women who somehow deteriorate during the night," I quipped.

When he just shrugged off my joke, I asked, "But you've done autopsies?"

"Not on a young person," Trowa explained.

"You'll get used to it," I said, "or not."

"What's next?" Trowa managed to keep all but the barest tremor out of his voice, I noticed. So, he _was_ human but not totally unfeeling. That was good. Cool and calm was okay, but cold and tense was not.

"What we do the most, embalming." I opened a manual and pointed to the title page, while I read: "'Embalming forms the foundation for the entire funeral-service structure. It is the basis for the sale of profitable merchandise, the guardian of public health, the reason for much of our professional education and our protective legislation.' It's from an old embalming text."

Trowa smiled.

"So, in the ideal setting my assistant would do the prep stages and, as the elite funeral director that I was and am, I'd do the cosmetics," I clarified.

"You didn't trust him, your other helper."

"No shit." I grinned. "He might have shaved off the eyebrows or painted on moustaches, the nit."

Trowa smiled faintly. He had a shy smile and the prettiest green eyes that glittered in the bright lights. He used the long bangs to hide behind, which I thought was rather endearing. In the back of my mind I was glad he was straight or had Hilde called him "bi?" Further back in my brain, I reminded myself I had a boyfriend, well, almost a boy friend-- 0ne in process, and I was loyal to that. And way, way back there, but moving forward faster than I liked, was the reminder that I hadn't had a sexual encounter of the meaningful kind in way too long.

What had I been talking about? The nit, my previous employee. Right. Picturing that ugly mug triggered my defenses and pushed every other thought back into place. I might have screwed up the order, though, because "long time, no sex" kept popping into my head, despite the work at hand.

"It takes training to do it right. Anyway, what I wanna show you is what you'd be expected to do. Obviously, since you're learning on the job, I'd do this with you a few times. Okay?"

"Ready."

"Great. Time to put on the gloves (typically two pairs). The chest's been cracked and the soft organs have been removed, measured, tested, and dumped. So, what we gotta do now is stuff it and stitch it up. Then we pump embalming fluid into the main artery."

We worked together stuffing the wadding in place to give the torso form, and then I demonstrated my fine sewing technique.

"It doesn't show, so it doesn't have to be fancy, but I got pretty good at it and it's kinda fun doing cross stitch."

I could feel a blush heat my face as Trowa shook his head and commented, "You would have made an interesting doctor. Changed the tilt of the earth."

"Yeah, well…" No sex, no sex...

"I'll do that."

He could sew fine and finished the job for me. Then he watched as I set up the feeder lines and filled the reservoir with fluid.

"Once this gets going, it'll take awhile so in the meantime, Trowa, you can take the body's inventory list and cross-check that with the personal stuff sent over from the hospital."

Trowa, happy to be anywhere else, it seemed, for the moment, took the clipboard and located the box stacked among others with the matching ID label. Inside the box was a thin ring, a retainer, and glasses-- That's all I could recall from my own quick peek. Trophies she'd left behind. Behind. Trowa had a nice ass. Did he work out?

"When you're done, I could use a hand here," I shouted. I pulled on my mask to hide my flushed face.

Trowa quickly verified that everything on the list was in the box, closed the lid securely, and hurried back to the table. "It's okay. Nothing's lost."

"Great," I said. Sexy great.

Trowa looked away from where the faintly pink fluid was pumping into an artery. "You put on a mask. Should I be wearing one, too?"

"Yeah, you should always use a face mask and ensure that the embalming room is sanitized and ventilated. These chemicals are dangerous so don't breathe them, spill them, or get them in your eyes," I warned him. "I got a regular routine to prep. I'll show you, if you decide to stay on."

"I'd like to, if the pay's okay. Even if it's not. I like it here. Quiet, clean."

"That's cool, 'Tro. Say, I'll be done in a minute then we have some cleaning up to do. Find the germicidal solution." I directed Trowa to the cabinets, where he could locate find it on the shelf. I barely contained my excitement to have him working with me. I would be great. A team. I could take a day off now and then, too.

"The recommended process calls for a thorough disinfection and body cleansing with a germicide, insecticide olfactant. It's a safety precaution against most diseases and keeps the stink of decay down."

"Embalming is a smelly business," Trowa said. "Is there a fan I can turn up?"

"The ventilation switch is on the far wall. The dial below adjusts it. I must be getting nose burn-out," I told him. "If you think it's too strong, rev it up." Then you can work on me. Oh, God, I need help. Preserve me!

"I will." Trowa nodded and loped to the switch and cranked up the fan. When he got back, I was ready to have him assist in the cleaning, starting with the fingernails.

"Females generally take better care of their nails. With men we give them a shave and trim nose hairs."

"Fun."

"Next is hair." I wiggled my braid for emphasis. "One thing I know is hair products. It takes a passel to keep this mop under control."

"I can't imagine. This is enough for me to want to shave it all off some mornings." Trowa pushed his bangs out of his face, only to have a stubborn hank fall back into place, covering an eye.

We took turns washing the girl's face and hair, while I thought about playing with his hair.

"Hairdressing is normally done after embalming is done," I told him. "You're doing fine, by the way."

"Thanks," Trowa muttered. "So after this practice, maybe I can moonlight as a beautician."

That got me laughing again. Yeah, I really liked this guy. Yet, I wasn't sexually attracted. Much. I could be, but I had a guy I was dating, and, although I didn't like to admit it, my imagination was stirred by the artist with the killer eyes. I really needed a good lay, soon.

"Are we done then?" Trowa called out from the sink where he was washing his hands.

I looked up at the clock. _Where had the time gone?_ I yawned. "Lunch break, yeah. We can pack her back into the cooler and swab the decks, then go out. Cosmetics later."

Yeah, this was the start of something really good in my life. Trowa and I hit it off just great, even if he was dating/not dating my best girl-type friend. We slipped out of the coveralls and into our jackets. It was very spring-like outside, some sun, some clouds, and some wind.

"What's this?" Trowa knelt and picked up a card, which had been hidden in my outer jacket pocket and had fallen out when I pulled out my driving gloves. "Says: 'Duo'. You know, this reminds me of the one Quatre wrote your number on for me. Hand made, too. You get that heart card back, by the way?"

"Yeah, sorry 'bout Hilde." I was staring at the envelope, at my name written in fancy script by someone with talent.

"Nice card. You going to open that?"

"Yeah." The card was beautifully drawn and colored. A glittering rainbow arched over a house nestled in the trees out in the country. I didn't need the pot of gold at the end of it. The house would do. Just like I dreamed it would look like. This card, I'd frame. I'd frame the Valentine, too, I decided.

"What's it say inside?" he prompted me.

"**Can you win my heart… while you're chasing rainbows?"**

"From Quatre, probably."

I pictured those gentle eyes over dinner. Quatre was thoughtful, but he wasn't shy. He wouldn't slip me anonymous greeting cards. Then, I visualized a pair of exotic eyes. I imagined the scene where Quatre kissed and outted me, and those killer eyes laying me open, cutting me to the quick.

Then, slow thinker that I was, I guess, it finally occurred to me. What if Heero had been jealous of Quatre, not hate-filled? Heero was gay and artistic. What if it was Heero who had given me this card, no matter how? What if he made it for me? What if Heero was pursuing _me_? Man, from his standpoint, my dating Quatre and all-- I certainly was chasing rainbows.

"I'm not sure," I told Trowa. But I was certain that I wanted to see Heero again!

End Chapter 3

* * *

**TBC in Chapter 4 -- April's Fool (in April)**


	4. April's Fools

**Greeting Cards**

This is an on-going story arc, which will be updated monthly, at least. Each new story is based on Heero's greeting cards and features a holiday.

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters. I make no monetary profit off this story.

**Warnings: AU, male/male pairings, language, embalming and autopsies in detail**

**Chapter 4 --**

**April's Fools **

* * *

After Duo and Trowa left the coffee shop _together_, I must have looked as confused and disturbed as I felt. Quatre did not look any better, but he had the courage to talk about it. That is when I recalled the wisdom of keeping my mouth shut and locked my jaw in place.

"I hope he gets this." Quatre dangled that half-baked thought in front of us for a minute while he cautiously sipped his hot drink with whipped cream and shaved chocolate.

I could not keep my eyes off his face when his tongue darted out and swept up a mouthful of topping. His eyes met mine and I looked away. I did not need his teasing to make my life worse. He had Duo, or _had_ had Duo and was losing him to Trowa. Not that that made any sense to me.

Whenever I caught him, Trowa had been furtively watching Quatre and Duo with open admiration. He had not drooled but it was painfully clear he envied them. I had thought Trowa was interested more in Quatre, than Duo, though. Actually, I'd thought Trowa was interested in Hilde, but I guess that was history. I needed an org chart to keep track of the affairs.

In any case, Quatre certainly had Duo and Trowa's admiration; he did not need my attention, too. But he was cute as all hell, and I'd never slept with a blond before. Or a brunette. Or anyone. I pictured Duo naked, as best I could, with his long braid running down his back, turning over to face me. I crushed that image then washed it away with an unsatisfying gulp of tepid tea.

"Who gets what? Trowa?" Hilde asked Quatre.

Chang scowled my way but said nothing. I returned a glowering look, which seemed to be what he wanted because he nodded and looked away. He appeared fit and healthy and ill at ease in this convivial setting. Arresting criminals was more to his liking, I guessed.

Quatre nodded in answer to Hilde's question. "Yes."

"Oh, yeah, Duo mentioned that he'd called him; maybe working for Duo, right? That would be today. Well, good. Trowa'd do a super job and, let's face it, Duo needs the help."

"And Trowa _needs_ a change of jobs," Quatre put in. "He's so dissatisfied with what he's doing. And, ah, Duo is overworked."

Nice afterthought, Winner. Shouldn't you be putting Duo front and foremost? I would. Damn. So, Trowa and Duo weren't heading out on a date, and Quatre and Duo hadn't broken up. How disappointing! And I knew I shouldn't feel that way. And that made me feel foolish, wishing for Quatre and Duo to call it quits. But I wished they would! Anyone could see they were a mismatch! But did I want the athletic, strong, and silent Trowa by his side day in and day out? But Duo needed a break! But, but, but…!

Then I wondered if Duo had found my St. Patrick's Day card yet. Ugh. What was I doing? Chasing someone already in a relationship with anonymous greeting cards? How much more inept could I be?

"You all right, Heero?" Quatre was staring at me with those earnest, bright blue eyes.

I buried my head in my arms on the table. I had miles of room to bungle up things completely. I nodded and straightened up again. I had to pull myself together. Stop thinking about Duo Maxwell!

"If he's not put off by the nature of the work or the solitude, then it ought to work out for the two of them." Hilde was staring at me now. "That would give Duo more time to spend with all his friends."

_Spend it with me._

"Yes, well, I hope it all settles out for them. I really do. Now, sorry to run off and leave you, but I have a discussion group to lead at the university," Quatre said as he stood. "See you all later."

_Not if I see you first._

Hilde smiled and waved then sat back. "I am so tired of the rain. I want spring big time. You must get tired of it too, having to walk around outside most of the time." She directed this remark at the Chinese police officer she had hauled in, Officer Chang.

Duo had called him "Fei" and called Hilde "Hil". He called Quatre "Quat" sometimes and Trowa "Tro". He called me "'Ro." I imagined his lips curved saying "'Ro."

And the officer was glaring at me again. Chang gave me the impression that I was an unwelcome "Alice" at his mad tea party. Time to give him the space he desired. "I must get back to work also," I announced, standing.

"Hold on just a minute." Hilde yanked on my arm and I sat obediently. "I got this idea. See, every year Duo pulls some April Fool's prank on me. Not messy or nasty ones, but he gets me, okay? So just this once I wanted to get him first."

"It is only the middle of March," Chang reminded her.

"It takes planning. And I need your help. Both of you. It's all about timing. First, Wufei, I need you to barricade his business before Duo gets there that morning. That means I need you, Heero, to keep him occupied here until you get the okay. Got that?"

"There are regulations against the abuse of the law," Chang said stiffly.

"You work it out and I'm in," I said. "I must leave now, though."

I did not want to be a part of her convincing an officer of the law to stretch or break it. Besides, she would have a better chance without an audience. Now I had to work out my plans. How could I keep Duo from work? Why would he listen to me? I had no magic charms or enticements.

Hilde did, though. She found me the next day and told me we were on and that Chang even agreed to give Duo my April Fool's greeting card. The card needed a finishing touch, something personal. It needed something inside. A pop up? A candy? A… something funny. I would think of it eventually. I had a few weeks.

(o)

I have absolutely no idea what happened to the month of March. Maybe the rain helped wash it away. Yep, another lousy month spins down the drain for Duo Maxwell. Oh, I knew instinctively that it was April first, but I wasn't prepared for what the day would bring. Silly me.

Part of my problem was that I was off my game. I'd been out late the night before with Quatre watching "films" on campus. We had a damned hot make-out session, but that was it. No way was I getting in his pants. "Not so soon." He had the command of an omnipotent system administrator over his control panel. I had limited user access and useless hacker skills. Quatre made a great friend, but he was coming up way short on my best-of-lovers-list.

So, needy and upset, I had a hard time getting to sleep, and when I did, I didn't sleep all that well. And then I was awakened by an early morning phone call. It turned out to be a wrong number. It had to be a wrong number because the caller-id placed it at the Sanc Palace. Yeah, right. Rather unlikely I'd be getting a call from that swanky place. Still, it was my first clue that Something Was Up, besides me now. But I wasn't paying attention.

Since I was mostly conscious after the call, I got up and managed to make the earlier downtown bus. Not too bad. I actually chose to do that once in awhile to give me more time to hover over my coffee.

The second clue that Something Was Up I disregarded just as easily as the first. My bud, Hilde, didn't answer her cell phone or even show up in the coffee shop that morning. I hadn't forgotten it was the first of April. The day before I'd made all the arrangements to have the official-looking "STD" warning stickers issued by the health department and instructions for them to be prominently displayed on the dressing room doors of her boutique. I didn't think for a minute that she'd do it. I knew she had come to expect my April Fool's jokes. But, she was so late I was starting to think she had fallen for it and was busy putting the signs up.

It was no wonder that I didn't give a rat's ass about Hilde ten seconds after showing up in the coffee shop; my artist with the killer eyes was already ensconced in his window seat. His dark hair was falling into his eyes, chocolate colored corduroy jacket hung slightly rumpled, notebook, pencil-- I must have noticed that he looked more intense than usual. Not much about him got past me any more. No, he wasn't just intense, but actually chatty when I joined him. He wanted me to sit for his sketch.

What the hell? You think that would have triggered all kinds of warning devices in my head. Something Is Up, Maxwell! But it didn't. I gladly posed for my portrait. Yes, I did it and listened to him rattle on and on about the current show at the museum. Nothing was so terribly pressing at work that I had to run over. I had that extra time. Trowa could open and get things started. I had all day, if I wanted.

Okay, to be frank, I'm a real sucker for attention.

I liked the interest Heero showed me, the way he studied me for several minutes before returning to his paper and touching up the drawing. I'm a loyal-to-the-end kind of guy. I wasn't going to cheat on my not-quite-yet-a-boyfriend, but I couldn't help feeling what I felt, and Heero made me feel special.

Just thinking that flustered me. At least he wasn't working with colored pencils. My face was probably beet red. I ducked to hide it, and in that way a flood of clues probably passed over my head.

What did I care? I felt all dreamy and enormously comfortable. Golden motes of sunlight streamed through the window, spilling over the table, soaking into my shoulders, and warming me. Muffled voices of the other patrons didn't enter our space. We were in a world of our own: Heero scratching with his pencil and glancing up at me, while I warmed, melted, and nearly vaporized.

A call from his agent for a meeting (he said) broke the spell. Man, I was late getting to the mortuary! We both hopped from our seats, mumbled apologies, and dashed to the exit.

And then, the threat, the Something that had been hovering on the edge of my consciousness, finally happened. In spite of all the warnings, I wasn't prepared. The back entrance to the mortuary was blocked. Glowing yellow "Police Incident" tape barred my passage. Officer Chang was talking to Trowa.

"What's up?" I asked.

"I've been informed that there's a dead body inside. It's closed while we recover evidence," Wufei said.

"Dead body… It's a mortuary. Of course there's a dead body-- three, in fact!"

Trowa grunted. He may have been holding back a laugh.

"So you are admitting it!" Chang sounded triumphant, as if he'd trapped me.

"What part of 'This is a mortuary' are you not getting?"

"I'll have to take you in."

"_What?_! Why? Hey, is this some anti-gay thing you've got going? 'Cause you're an officer and you're supposed to protect me from hate crimes."

Chang snapped manacles over my wrists before I could strangle him. "Give me trouble and I'll have them behind your back. It hurts more that way."

Trowa cleared his throat. "That's enough Chang."

Thanks for the support, buddy. "You rough me up and I've got a witness!"

Chang went for his gun. Well, I thought he did. What he went for was a different sort of weapon, a greeting card. He pulled it out of his shoulder holster and jammed it into my hands. "There."

He face wore a sinister smile as he unlocked the handcuffs, and then I heard giggling that rapidly ramped up to maniacal laughter. Hilde. Oh, God.

"April Fool!" she screamed. "I did it! I did it! I DID IT!"

Chang had his hands full subduing Hilde. Trowa ripped the tape off the door. He contained his jubilation completely. I loved the guy. "Open the card," he said.

Oh, yeah, the card. I didn't look at the name on the outer envelope or I would have recognized my name in the same script as the St. Patrick's Day card. Also, I was certain it was more of Hilde's joke, like a summons to court or something.

But it wasn't. The cover was stunning; adorned with a beautiful painting of colorful umbrellas in a grey rainstorm. One, an umbrella of the deepest blue, was off to one side and the owner, nearly visible, stood sheltered beneath a tree. It had a Japanese feel to it. I recognized the likeness to the Valentine and rainbow card immediately. I really liked the card and wanted to lose myself in the picture.

Then Officer 'Fei lost containment.

"What's it say? Who's it from!" Hilde nudged me. "That's really pretty, Duo."

I opened it, caught a thin strip of blue leather as it fell out, and read:

_**"Don't be fooled into mismatches ... limiting your chances for the genuine."**_

From over my shoulder I heard Trowa say, "Well that's not subtle at all this time."

"Huh? But there's no signature!" Hilde cried.

"It's a mystery to you?" Trowa said. "He _has_ a boyfriend." The guy was cool as a cucumber when he said that too, knowing full well that it wasn't from Quatre any more than the previous one had been.

"Eh! You fall for that romantic drivel like you fell for my joke, and –by the way, loved your STD prank but it was a bit lame for you—we're just a couple of April's fools, huh?" Hilde asked, jabbing me in the ribs.

"Gay romance completely mystifies me," 'Fei put in.

"Yeah," I agreed to both comments, and then said my goodbyes to her and the smug officer. I followed Trowa into the crypt.

"So, what fell out?" he asked me. He didn't seem to miss much.

I looked over the strip of leather. On the shiny, finished side was burned the word "Sushido." Naturally, I flipped it over and hand-written in tiny gold letters were the words, "The way of the tuna."

He read the notation with me and chuckled at the joke. "Something fishy about this," he said.

I sniffed and tied it to the end of my braid. Somebody knew my sense of humor, my favorite color, my dream house, me. Somebody had been paying very close attention to me. Someone with an artistic bent was interested… in me, and I knew who it was. It creeped me out and touched my heartstrings. I felt like singing, so I did.

(o)

I paid Hilde a visit at her downtown shop, which was enough to find out that her April Fool's Day prank on Duo had come off well. Duo and Trowa had taken it for what it was and appeared amused, she told me, but not in those words. And Duo seemed to like the card-- a lot-- if I was to believe what Hilde told me. "Drooling like a cat with a tongue wart."

While I tried not to imagine what that would look like, she talked more. She did not mention the tie for his hair, though, which was of interest to me. Maybe it fell out and he lost it. No one knew the card was from me except her, and possibly Chang. She had kept my secret, because she understood nothing might ever come of my infatuation. Still, she did not try to discourage me from trying; in fact, I believe she wanted me to push Duo harder.

"His current flame's a burn out, if I get the drift of his complaining," Hilde has said.

I do not know if I did or did not. As long as Duo was dating the flirty, rich, executive-to-be, he was not dating me. And, if I could not be with Duo, I preferred to be alone with him in my thoughts. So, I went home and hoped to have the place to myself.

Dinner alone would be a pleasant change. I looked forward to it. The palace had a full-time cook, so I had only to show up in the dining room and food would appear before me. I considered getting my own plate and simply eating in the kitchen, when Milliardo ducked in, platinum hair, fresh from the hair dresser's, undulating like liquid metal in the candlelight.

His vanity irritated me. I was in no mood to face Milliardo that evening. I thought he was going out. It was a Saturday night. He was always out on a Saturday night. Relena, I knew, was at a party, so I expected the place to myself. April Fool's on me.

"Eating in, I see. I thought you were accompanying my sister to the Catalonia's? I didn't think you missed an opportunity to insinuate yourself into our lives."

I would not be provoked into a fight, not that easily. "You misunderstood. I declined her invitation."

"Don't you think it's time you moved on? I know it must be hard for you to give up such a cozy arrangement."

"You know nothing about me."

"You are right, so I have to manufacture back story for what I see, and that is a good-for-nothing kid, sponging off the goodness of my sister's compassionate nature, who—"

I swung and connected with the older guy's solar plexus, knowing full well that he was a highly trained lieutenant in the armed forces-- on leave, but in shape. That was the last strike I landed. From there on out he blocked every one. I fought hard. My adoptive father taught me to fight and shoot before he died and left me to fend for myself. His legacy served me well on many occasions, but I could not best this man in hand-to hand combat who was a master martial artist and who stood a foot taller than I.

He kicked my feet out from under me, knocking my breath away. Before I could suck a lungful of air, he had me pinned to the floor. He wasn't even breathing hard.

"You are cold-blooded, Yuy."

"I have feelings—"

He pressed his full length along mine and twisted my wrists in one hand so he could grasp my chin with his other. I was afraid he was going to break my neck. I tried to flip him off, but my legs were completely immobilized.

"I'm not… heartless!" I gasped for air. "You… just want to believe that. Go on. Kill me. I don't care."

"I should. I should just kill you right now. You are here to use my sister to improve your situation. You are a worthless little shit. I will not allow you to destroy her life along with yours." He out-weighed me by nearly 50 pounds—mostly muscle—and used his leverage to pound my head into the floor boards in time with his words. "I shall _not_ allow _that_ to _happen_!"

If he truly wanted to kill me, then that spoiled the mood entirely. I bit back a groan and said, "It won't happen."

I confused him, because he paused in his attack. My head was spinning and I saw stars. Still, I could tell that he was ready for a little more fight. "I'm not after your sister. I'm gay."

I got the reaction I wanted. He rolled off me and shot up onto his feet as if being gay was contagious and acquired by contact.

"No…!"

"Aren't all artists these days?" I asked with the appropriate sneer.

Now, he had numerous reasons to kill me, but I was free and had the use of all my limbs. I rolled into a crouch and looked for a weapon, none, and an escape route, over the couch. I jumped, planning to clear the back of the couch, and failed. My right leg nerve had been pinched, and, instead, I collapsed on the pillows. He was laughing his ass off.

"You're GAY! Oh, ho hoooo! Damn, heh, heh, that's just too funny, heh, heh…"

Relena chose that time to come home. "The party was a bore." I could have told her it would be. I probably did. I would have gloated now, had I not just had my ass kicked by her brother and been face down on the couch.

"Milli? Is that you? Oh, Heero, you're home, too! How perfect? Milliardo, what is your problem?"

Hoping the man would asphyxiate himself while choking on his spit sadly did not make it happen.

"Dear _God_, Relena… sister-dear, you have to hear this."

She looked put out to have to listen to him. I did not blame her. I respected her pluck, at times. I stood and re-routed my retreat path.

"How much did you have to drink with dinner?" she asked him.

I groaned with the pain from a bruised chest, head, and lack of dinner.

"You, too? You boys go on a drunk when I'm out? You are no fun at all!"

"Relena, now this is serious business." Milliardo snickered, broke apart, and fell to his knees, laughing.

"You are stoned. I will have nothing more to say to you--"

I had worked my way around the back of the couch using a stiff sideways movement and was halfway to the door when she turned on me. "He didn't compel you to use drugs, now, did he? Milliardo, if you've corrupted my dear Heero—"

"No chance of that!" he barked. "He's gay! He fucks little boys!"

Not true! I was gay, but I had not fucked anyone and I was not attracted to younger boys. I was insulted and humiliated.

Some people are alive only because it is illegal to kill them. Milliardo is one of those people. And for a moment, I think Relena and I were in complete agreement on that matter.

Relena's faced darkened to plumy wine red and she dropped her purse in the doorway. I felt the earth quake. I wondered why she needed to carry ballast with her. Was she so light headed she was afraid she would blow away without the added weight? I was probably concussed.

"Language like that has no place in the palace."

Her voice scared the shit out of me, figuratively. The piercing quality of the tone damaged my mind further. Suddenly, the door appeared further away than in reality. My head pounded in time with my heartbeat, but I knew I would soon escape. Stepping deftly over her purse must have set off a magic tripwire, however, because her damned cell phone tingled and made her turn and catch me in the act of retreating.

"We are not done here. Just one minute, both of you!"

I wimped out and obeyed. She had that effect on me. I would have to explain.

"Explain, somebody," she said.

"It's true." I sighed.

I said that much without hesitation. It had the benefit of being itself "the truth" and lacking any sensitive words, or many words at all. It was not deep, soul-searching, or, sadly, effective.

"Don't you think the joke has gone… far… enough?" she asked in measured words. I'd say she was tired of it all. I was too. Her brother on the other hand was not.

"No joke can!" he snorted into his hand.

"Can what?" Relena had a limited sense of humor and no appreciation for the absurd.

"What you said: can go far enough." He was once again overcome with mirth.

She stomped her foot with ill-concealed irritation. "You know what I meant! It's a little late in the day for April Fool's jokes and I thought we were all too adult for pranks. But I'm willing to forgive and forget this ever happened." Her smile spread, stretched and strained thin as size small tights over a queen, (not that I had had any personal experience with getting into tights.)

Milliardo wiped his eyes with a silk handkerchief. "You must see the humor in all this. He doesn't want you. Hell, he's probably more interested in me!" This tickled his funny bone and sent him into another laughing fit.

"I—" I began but…, but how should I put this? What could I say? I did not date anyone, irrespective of his or her sex. I liked females and males equally, except when I thought about undressing one or kissing one. But I had not undressed or kissed _anyone_. How could I look her in the eye and admit I was secretly attracted to someone else almost as pretty as she, but male? I had not even the courage to tell him!

"Oh, drop the act. So, you showed poor taste trying to pull off a very bad April Fool's Day joke. I'm disappointed. Gay, my foot. (Her _foot?_) Love is beautiful. It should be honored not made fun of. And to joke about being queer? Those poor human beings are so confused."

Relena offered me (I think not deliberately) a deprecating smile, which shook me to my core. I located my balls and my voice. "The only queer people I know of are those who haven't found anyone to love," I said.

Point made and not interested in any more verbal or physical jousting, I strode out of the room. I would suck up my pain and eat out. Even if Milliardo had broken both my legs, I would have marched out of that place.

As habit would have it, my getaway took me into the neighborhood of Maxwell's Mortuary. Was I hoping to run into Duo leaving the place late? Well, I did fall into step with his new assistant, Trowa, a few blocks away.

"Yo."

"Hi," I said.

"Duo's out with Quatre," he informed me.

I shrugged, pretending it did not matter.

"Want a bite?"

I assumed Trowa meant dinner, although the man was dressed for trolling. Tight mesh shirt over tight jeans and a trendy jacket that matched the color of his eyes. I liked it. Was he looking to hook up with girls or guys in that hot getup?

"That was my intention."

"It's Chang. Over there."

And so it was. Hilde's officer friend traversed a path to meet us in front of the diner, my objective. Trowa was first to greet him as he held open the door for us. What I liked about the place was the food, fast and filling, and the pool tables in back.

"I go 'on' in an hour," Officer Chang explained. "I detest Saturday night duty."

Trowa and I commiserated with an understanding grunt. "Hn."

An attractive woman with wispy blond hair handed over menus and took our orders. I rearranged the salt and pepper shakers, while Chang and Trowa exchanged enigmatic expressions and few unnecessary words. Drinks arrived then the food. We ate in pleasurable silence. It was the best dinner I had enjoyed in a long time.

We substituted desert with a quick game of pool. While waiting his turn, I noticed Trowa chatting up the blond woman. She looked a bit too old for him, but that was his business.

Trowa appeared out of nowhere. "Quatre and Duo were here earlier. They're going to a nightclub."

I lifted my hands off the table and rested the pool cue to the side. I would have wasted my shot if I'd tried to concentrate. "Which one?"

"The Vicuna or Typhoon," he paused then added, "or Voodoo."

"There's a hell of a difference." Chang pointed out. "The first one's sleazy but safe. Typhoon's a gay hook-up joint. But that last place, Voodoo, fills with gay baters and haters."

I did not ask him where he got his information. It was his beat. Obviously he'd know the night spots where trouble lurked.

"We should make sure they chose the safe place," Chang said.

That surprised me.

"Corrupt moral values are against the law, but homosexuality is not." He looked uncomfortable to say the word to me, but it turned out not to be that. He pulled out his vibrating cell phone.

"Chang Wufei. No bother—" He cleared his throat. "Maxwell? What the fuck?!"

Trowa and I moved closer, tense, and ready to move out the moment he found out where they were.

"Where are you?" significant pause, "We're on our way."

Trowa yanked on his coat. "Where to?"

"Voodoo."

"Naturally."

(0)

"Duo, you missed your turn."

"Quat, I know where I'm going. There's a short cut to the parking lot through the alley."

"But Typhoon has its own parking garage and its back where I said to turn." He was sounding more insistent.

"Yeah, and it costs fifteen buckaroos to park there, whereas I can park here for nothing."

"But it's not safe!"

"Sure it is. It's got lights and who is gonna break into a hearse?"

"I was thinking safe for us."

"I'll protect ya!" I was pretty damn cocky that night. "I'm a scrapper from way back."

"That's supposed to reassure me?" He smiled faintly. "I'll pay for the parking, Duo."

"It's not the money; it's the principle!" I blew the bangs out of my eyes in a huff of exasperation. "The walk can do us good, too. See here it is! Plenty of free spaces."

"But it's not the right—"

I cut off his whining with a slam of my door. I hated to do that, but my next temptation would be to punch him.

I locked the hearse while Quatre walked around to join me on my side of the vehicle. He might have touched my arm, when a truck rounded up in the parking lot, churning loose gravel. From the way he drove, I knew either the guy was pissed or was drunk. He stopped his custom 4x4 sports truck inches from me and revved the engine twice before shutting it down. Like I hadn't noticed he was a prick already.

When he got out, he said, "Sure took your sweet-assed time to get the body, didn't you?"

"Excuse me?"

"If you're just getting here, you're sure taking your fucking time."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." I didn't either.

"Sure you don't, fucking ambulance chaser."

"What a presumptuous prick you are!" Quatre stepped in to help.

"Ah, it's okay, Quat, I can handle this guy. Excuse me dude, but you don't know me, and I don't owe you a fucking breath, so get something through that fucking head of yours. You can attempt to pick at me and I'll fight back or you can back off and I'll chill. Got me?"

"**You** chill, dude."

"That's what I thought. Now, we're going in for a drink and some music. If there's a body around to be dealt with, I'd be happy to have your input after I go in and see what's up. "

Unfortunately, the man was off his rocker.

"Man, the bitch hated my guts and sent me off to be in school so I wouldn't get into her business. Every time I thought I could count on her, she stepped off in my ass and told me what a disappointment I was, so you won't see tears here."

"Okay…"

"Are you saying a woman has died in the nightclub and you knew her?" Quatre asked. "I'm so sorry."

I turned and looked at Quatre. He was trying to make sense out of the man's drunken gibberish. I just wanted to go inside. It was the first time I'd ever seen Quatre in this light and his sweet, wide-eyed, sympathetic looks in different circumstances would have had me begging to swing off his dick. But, the big lout was going to kill him if he kept it up.

He kept it up and raised the ante. He place an arm around my waist and asked that oaf in the kindest voice he had, "Look at me and before we go in there, tell me what you're feeling."

"What are you, a fucking shrink?" The man's eyes narrowed. "No, you're both fuckin' fags!"

"Yeah, and this one's about to break one off in your ass. So, shut up."

"You think you're tough, step up punk!"

"Let's not start a fight! We just want to help!" Quatre cried out. He meant it, too, which was the sad part.

"One moment Quatre." I pulled out my cell phone and dialed Wufei's number. He answered and I said, "'Fei, say sorry to bother you, heh, heh… Yeah, maybe, but could you get me some bail money together?"

"Maxwell? What the fuck!" came his startled voice.

"Yeah, I've got a punk here who just threatened me. He thinks I'll back down and he doesn't realize that as an undertaker, I could hide bodies in places he never thought."

"Where are you?"

"Typhoon."

"No, Duo, look! The sign says Voodoo. You parked close to the wrong place!"

No wonder. At least he didn't remind me "I told you so." That would have made me want to hurt him.

"Ah, scratch that. My mistake. It's called Voodoo and apparently there's a dead girl inside, too. Possibly, if I'm to believe the asshole."

"We're on our way."

I wondered if 'Fei had a God complex or multi-personality disorder with his royal "we."

When I snapped the cell phone shut, I turned to the big-mouthed lout and said, "That was your last hope. That was a cop and he'll kick your ass so I can finish you off and do the funeral."

"What?!"

"Yeah, I'd break you in half within a second, but it's my night out and I think you need cop's special touch. It sounds like you need it."

"Dude, a fag's got a cop in his pocket to whip my ass?!"

"Yeah and it's pissing me off for you to continue using the "f" word, so what I'm going to do is go in there with my boyfriend and zone you out. You had the opportunity to not piss me off and you had opportunity to make a difference in your life."

"Well, you obviously don't know who I am."

"Oh, I'll bet everyone shivers when they mention your name. Well, punk, my right hand is the Grim reaper and my left hand is death, so fuck with me puh-leaze."

"I'm someone who will take down your business. I just inherited more money than you'll ever see."

"Oh really?"

Quatre yanked on my arm, pulling me to the door. "This is the wrong club. It's straight and not gay friendly, but I doubt they'll shoot us if we keep a low profile. Of course, it's all going to be fine because we're saving money out of principle."

I shot him a sharp, _sharp_ look. It struck home and deflated his ballooning ego. He asked, "Is Wufei really on his way?"

When Quatre looked at me with those puppy eyes I smiled. "Yeah, he is. And when he gets here, it's not going to be pretty."

"Yeah, in your dreams, fag-boy." Punk-boy knew not of what he spoke or to whom.

"Nightmares for you."

"You're fuckin' close to an idiot!" the punk yelled.

"Then I'd better move further away," I said. I couldn't help myself.

Quat and I moved to the nightclub door and the dude shoved me. I'd been expecting some stupid move from him. All he'd done so far was stupid; no reason to expect less. He shoved me, and smooth as a cat I tripped him at the front entry. He made a grab for my leg and we both toppled with him on top. The commotion brought Quat and a bouncer closer, but then the punk started screaming.

Quat looked up, shouting, "He's coming!"

He meant Trowa, who pulled him out of the fray. I saw Heero take on the drunk dude with moves out of a Kung-Fu movie. 'Fei let him wrestle the guy off me and onto the floor, and then cuffed him.

"Is there a dead body inside?" Chang asked the dazed bouncer, and moved out of range.

"Are you okay?" Heero asked me, as he pulled me to my feet.

I was staring into the richest shade of blue eyes molded into exotic curves. They were very close to mine. My flat world just went tipsy, mountains climbed skyward and an abyss opened at my feet. If I took one step closer, I would fall. "Yeah, fine. You can fight."

"Tai Qwon Do and Jujitsu, but they guy was untrained. I'm not always that effective." He looked humble. "Chang told me he learned Karate and Judo, performs the ritual of Tai Chi to keep him toned and fit, and has a second degree black belt."

That _was_ humbling.

"Thanks."

"You smell good."

Funny Heero would notice that now, but then we'd never been so close before. "Thanks. That's my natural smell."

"Hn," Heero grunted, and then he smiled.

Quatre and Trowa joined us, Quatre regaling everyone with the tale of our eventful evening. Trowa put in that Quatre's sister, owner of the diner they'd been eating at and the blond who had taken their order, clued him in on where they were headed. Apparently another sister owned the Chili's where Quatre worked, or had worked since he'd quit after getting a teaching assistant job at the university. "We were about to check where you'd gone," he explained, "when Chang got Duo's call."

"We coulda taken care of things okay," I said in my defense, "but there was a possibility of foul play. A dead girl. I mean, things would have turned out all right even if you all and 'Fei hadn't come. I just figured the cops would end up here anyway."

Quatre looked shook by the events and not in full agreement that we could have handled it all alone. "I think you did the right thing, Duo, calling officer Chang." He looked first at Heero, but lingered longer on Trowa when he added, "And I really appreciate your concern and coming to help."

"Butting in—"

Wufei reappeared. "That is your hearse in the parking lot, correct?"

"Yes. Why? Oh, no, not a real body!"

Yes, April had one more kick in the pants for me. Hauling the dead woman and conducting an autopsy was a hell of a way to end a date and start off the month. My boyfriend offered to join me, but, I noticed, only after Trowa said he would help with the autopsy. I think it was Heero who talked Quatre out of watching us work and who walked him home.

This made me wonder if Heero was giving him cards, too. I've got quite an imagination. It was working overtime as well.

End Chapter 4

**TBC in Chapter 5 -- May Flowers (in May) **


	5. May’s Flowers

**Greeting Cards**

This is an on-going story arc, which will be updated monthly, at least. Each new story is based on Heero's greeting cards and features a holiday.

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters. I make no monetary profit off this story.

**Warnings: AU, male/male pairings, language, embalming and autopsies **_**in detail**_

Chapter 5 --

May's Flowers

* * *

I could tell that having all his friends invade his club date-gone-bad had embarrassed Duo and the further humiliation of having his boyfriend openly flirt with his employee had to hurt. I felt for him having to go back to work (and with said employee) on his evening off.

I nearly had to carry Quatre to get him away from the scene. I wanted to find out if he was really in love with Duo, not that I had any idea how I was going to make him divulge that kind of intimate information to me. I took him to the first place I could think of: the Sanc palace. He had never been there and was impressed to silence that I knew the occupants. I did not explain the circumstances; just that it was a long story for another time. I did not feel like inviting Quatre up to my room, giving away that I lived there, and I did not want him in my studio. He was curious why I seemed to be making my self at home, offering him a soda. He was astute and I was in over my head from the start.

"I want to know; that is, I noticed how you and Trowa or Duo, ah—" I had no idea what I was trying to spit out. I really did not, so it was fortunate that my babbling was interrupted, but by the wrong people.

Naturally, both Relena and Zechs visited us in the parlor. Did they not have anything better to do than plague my life? I had so little privacy. They glided into the room, reminding me of vampires in a terrible movie I had once seen. I would have laughed had I not been worried about what they would tell Quatre.

"Hello, ah, Relena, this is Quatre Winner. Quatre, this is Relena Darlian and her brother Lieutenant Zechs Merquise. I'm just visiting them as, uh, a guest."

Somehow, Relena caught on to my game and did not give me away. She crushed her brother's foot with her sharp heel once or twice until he understood. Neither of them brought up how we came to know one another or that I was like a leach on their household. She offered up a "friend of the family" explanation in passing and Quatre accepted it.

I was impressed with her perceptiveness and grateful for her sensitivity. Now, if only she would leave and take her nosy brother with her all would be well. Oh, God! I would drop the conversation and any thoughts about grilling Quatre for information—if only they would disappear. Not unlike vampires, my plea to God did not move them.

Quatre ingratiated himself with my patrons immediately. He spoke 'wealth' and had the manners of the elite. I had no chance, no opportunity to speak to him alone and ascertain how he felt about Duo. I remained a brooding mute, until Quatre yawned and Zechs offered to take him home.

"No trouble, since I am going out that way myself."

_Which way was that, Zechs_, I wondered? _Must be the hell-way to campus._

"Two o'clock and my night begins," Zechs said.

Quatre actually laughed along with him. Then they were gone into the fleeting night world of the forever young and undead. That is when I realized that Zechs was leaving me alone with Relena so she could drill me (or suck me dry, but that had too many sexual overtones) -- that they had waited up for me to return that night. I was dead meat for sure. At least I would have Duo's hands on me in death. The crackling of paper disturbed my morbid musings.

Keeping her eyes on the papers she was gathering back up, Relena said, "Have you known Quatre a long time?"

"Yes." I waited.

"He's very attractive." Still not looking at me, she trapped the papers on the table, evening them up.

"Yes, he is."

"Is he a very good friend—oh, it's none of my business anyway."

"Why isn't it?"

"What?" Her eyes widened. Clearly not the response she had expected.

"Why isn't it your business?"

"Well…it just isn't. I mean, am I his business?"

"I don't know; I'll ask him."

"No! I mean, I don't care. I just thought if he's my business, I might be his business, if you know what I mean."

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep my face straight. "No, I don't know what you mean. Do you even know what you mean?"

Her look was fierce. "Oh, don't get smart." Face flushed, she picked up the folder and sailed out of the room, light hair flying, leaving me stranded.

When she was out of earshot, I nearly choked with laughter. She had been so kind covering for me, though, that I could not go on teasing her.

"Relena! I'm sorry."

She stopped and faced me. "You are?"

"Yes. Quatre is just a friend. I really am gay, but he's not one of my…interests. Just a friend. A, uh, friend of a friend. A boyfriend of a friend, that is."

"Thank you. I didn't think I could compete with such a delightful, well-mannered young man."

Her hopeful smile made me feel so sad. She did not understand me at all.

(0)

"Hey, Duo! Late night or what?"

"Hil, I'm asleep."

"Are you alone? 'Cause if you're not, I'd understand being in bed at two in the afternoon of this glorious day if there was a sexy body lying next to you--"

"I'm alone. Is it really afternoon?"

"Yes, indeedy!"

"You sound overly cheerful. Go away and come back in a fouler mood."

"Oh, Duo. I gotta share my news with someone and you're my bestest ever buddy."

"Fuck."

"How didya guess?"

"Huh?"

"Well, I'm dating Wufei now. He and Sally called it quits. They were not right for one another. We ALL knew that from the start, but now it is water under the street."

"Bridge. The saying goes: water under the bridge."

"More water runs in the sewers under our streets than any bridge and that was my point. Lots has transpired since Sally and Wufei were a couple. Now it's me and him."

"And you called to tell me you slept with him?"

"Well, it's been like a first, you know."

Her subdued tone did more to solidify my thoughts than what she had actually said. Then her meaning sank in. She had held out for "the one" longer than any one else I had known. "You are in love with him?" I left off the "so soon," which would have been an added insult. "I mean, you are sure, right? Man, that's so (sudden?) cool."

"Yeah, it is. You mean it? You're okay with me dating a cop and all?"

"Hilde—" How to put this… "If he makes you happy, I'm happy. He sure came through for me last night. Not that I couldn't have handled the prick but he was drunker than a skunk and then there was the dead girl."

"You have the worst dates. I actually feel sorry for Quatre."

"So did Heero, apparently."

It had been mostly my fault things turned out the way they did. I couldn't help but place a tiny amount of blame on Quat, though. If he had not been so particular about the route I had taken, then I might have used his safe little parking garage idea and avoided the whole debacle. Not debacle. Itsy-bitsy calamity. I should not have let his attitude get to me. He had been right, too, which was the worst part. That was why I was attempting to shrink the problem, because diminished it would fit into a box alongside my other numerous bad moments for safekeeping. What I couldn't shake was the annoying question that had haunted my dreams:_ why had Heero gone off with him?_

"You've called him, haven't you?" she asked, knowing full well I had not done a thing.

"Him, who? Oh, Quatre. No. I was up until morning doing an emergency autopsy, which proved the drunken dude, who had attacked us, had just returned to the scene of his crime where he had previously pummeled his ex-girlfriend to death and tossed her through the window of the nightclub."

"Icky-poo, Duo! You gay guys live dangerously."

"This was a straight guy and Quat and I were at a straight bar, not on purpose, but that hadn't anything to do with it (not much)."

"So, was Trowa working late with you?"

"Yeah. He's the best assistant ever. When he can afford it, I'm thinking of offering him a partnership."

"That's nice. So, what happened to Quatre? Sounds like the date from hell was over after that."

"Chang didn't tell you?"

"If he did I forgot. No, he didn't. We had better things to discuss than your pitiful date."

"Thanks. Well, it was over, all right. Heero showed up. He and Trowa were having dinner with your cop buddy when I called. So they all got to see my failure."

"Doesn't sound all that bad." She didn't convince me she believed that.

"Quatre took off with Heero." Or was carried off by him.

"Heero and Quatre? That's strange. Heero doesn't like your boyfriend very much. I can't see him wanting to spend time with him. Unless…"

I was about to hang up on her.

"Unless he murdered Quatre. His hasn't called you yet, has he?"

She sounded worried. I checked my messages. "No."

"Then he might have killed Quatre and hidden the body."

"Hil, you read too many murder mysteries. Heero didn't murder Quat. He probably saw an opportunity and took it."

"Opportunity? Duo, you dipstick for a brain! Heero is crazy about you. He does not like your blond wonder boy. Heero wants to wrap your braid around his dick and—"

"He did not tell you that!" I shouted. "And don't tell me where you got that idea."

"Hey, if I wanna see hot nude guys, I look at the same internet sites you do!"

I groaned as I imagined what she had seen.

"I've learned all kinds of things I can't wait to do to my boyfriend. I have a boyfriend, now, did I tell you? Yeah. Ha, ha! And since I haven't any experience, I've had to become self-taught. You could learn a thing or two."

"No thank you. I do not need advice from my girl space friend on sex techniques with my boyfriend."

"Oh, so you are getting someplace now? You know, in the sex department? The guy was feeling you up in the coffee shop the other day. He can't be all that cold."

"I'm getting up. I got stuff to do."

"Okay. So, congratulate me."

"Congratulations for losing it to a cop."

"A damned cute cop with a hot ass."

"Yeah, I noticed his ass, but that can't be as important to you as me." I said that with a laugh at the end. Now that we were off the topic of me, I could see humor in everything.

"Do you really stick your finger up there when you kiss?"

_Well, not everything._ "Hil, good bye."

I would not, _never ever ever,_ discuss gay sex with her. No. What I needed was some coffee and then to go shopping and then to run an errand. First, coffee--, which should be said as 'first, coffee' if you are a literal person.

"Call Quatre!" she reminded me then hung up.

(o)

I was unsure whether I should trouble Duo at his workplace or just wait and hope to catch him in the coffee shop. Sundays he did not always show up, but after the night he had had, and for all I knew he had spent the night at the mortuary, he might want some caffeine. While I stood outside the coffee shop pondering my entry, Duo rounded the corner and nearly ran into me.

"Hey, 'Ro. It's Sunday, isn't it?"

I shrugged, as if I could not make up my mind if it was or not, and asked, "Going in?"

"Actually, I was gonna grab a cup to go and run an errand."

I wanted to join him. I was not stupid enough to ask about Quatre. I absolutely left the mouths of every gift horse I had ever received firmly shut. If Duo asked me to join him, I would not question his decision. Something in my expression or body language must have given Duo a clue, because the next thing I knew Duo was dragging me along.

"It'll be fun, fresh air, exercise, everything."

"Okay." I could not resist.

Duo downed his caffeine en route. Between steamy sips, he explained his objective. "I have this friend, Mrs. Claremont, whose husband's in the hospital. I wanna take her something."

"Food?" I asked as we entered the upscale downtown grocery.

"Yeah, but since she can cook better'n me, I take her the basics."

And that is what he selected. Very raw. He rearranged the chicken parts, celery, carrots, and wine in the sacks so they were balanced, while the checker rang up the bill. I hefted one bag as Duo pocketed his change, and then Duo grabbed the other sack.

"Where does she live?"

"That's the fun part."

Duo smiled and I was awash in sunlight. It did not matter where we were headed, the moon even. The power of his smile captivated me and his charms enthralled me to follow him. I was so enchanted that I did not care where he led me or for how long, just as long as I was near him. It was very strange.

I was sure no one had ever felt the same way and I was crazy.

We crossed the busy street, walked a few blocks, and crossed the next. Duo was heading uphill. Posh homes dotted the heights further south, like the Relena Darlian Peacecraft estate where I was a guest. Still, any homes in the higher elevations were expensive.

"Do you live this way?"

"Who me? No way. I take the cross-town bus from the Bethel district. My money's sunk into the business, at least for a while. Though someday—"

I wanted to hear more about his "someday plans," but we had a break in the traffic stream and had to make a run for it.

"Aren't we trespassing onto private property?"

"No. Pretty clever of them, isn't it? This is a road even though the city no longer maintains it and the 'neighborhood watch' sign looks like a 'no trespassing' one."

I had walked past this entry hundreds of times and never thought it was a road. The pavement was broken in chunks, uneven, but obviously traveled. Here and there, driveways opened onto it and postboxes marked where several houses hid behind a tangle of bushes and trees.

"Take a deep breath and smell spring," Duo told me.

I did. I heard birdsong and felt light headed. I swooned, but caught myself without him noticing.

"Song sparrows migrating through," he said with a faint blush he could not hide from me, and added in a quiet voice, "Mrs. Claremont told me the other day."

I encouraged him to talk more with a smile of my own. "What about that bird?"

"Towhees have the black heads over there under the brush. That's a jay above them."

I knew what a jay was, but when the sunlight glimmered off Duo's stray hairs around his neck, all I could think of was reaching out and… He drew back from my hand and I brushed his skin.

"Bug," I said.

"Oh, yeah. Thanks. Bugs hatching out everywhere now. Flowers, birds--,"

"No bees. Too early and cold," I said automatically. Something heavy-scented was blooming. _What was that called?_

His eyebrows shot up into his bangs and his eyes shone, the sun showing them to be blue, but a violet blue I had never seen before. Then he grinned.

"Birds and the bees. I get it. Bet you've painted lots of flowers."

"Yes. Lots. Mostly roses."

A breeze blew his long bangs into his eyes. Cherry blossoms, pink and ruffled, cascaded from the tree overhead. A few settled in his hair. The rich reddish highlights glowed, setting his hair aflame. It contrasted dramatically with his near porcelain-perfect skin. Without the worry of work dragging him down, and probably more of the clean air and sunlight doing the magic, I thought he was gorgeous. He _was_ gorgeous. He was _stunningly_ gorgeous.

"Huh?"

Had I said any of that aloud?! I covered up my gaffe with a quick indirection. "Daphne. Can you smell it? It's just starting to open. A, ahhh, gorgeous scent."

"Yeah, nice, isn't it?"

I could not believe this neighborhood was so close to the middle of town. The sounds of traffic were gone. Birds and a dog barking in the distance was all I could hear. Nothing was fancy. You could see where an old place had been torn down and replaced with an over-sized modern home, but most of the homes were humble, some shoddy, but all with deep lots and plenty of trees for privacy. To the left opened a ravine filled with bramble and berry plants.

"We're headed to the right."

"No 'for sale signs' anywhere," I noted. "How does one get a place here?"

"Someone has to die. No, I'm not kidding. These places get handed down from father to son, mother to daughter." Duo laughed.

"Oh."

"You interested? Really? Occasionally the family doesn't want to keep the property, but it gets turned over fast. You know, if anyone dies, I hear about it first."

I shook my head and I did not hide my distaste.

"Too creepy?" Duo searched the distance for his answer.

"It sounds bad-- overanxious and rude."

"Not to mention heartless? I don't contact the families directly. There are agents whose job it is to do that. Anyway, up there's the house."

I do not know what I was expecting. English garden with pretty Mrs. Claremont picking armloads of flowers to take to her recuperating husband, possibly? The yard was a wild assortment of native plants in the shadows of towering firs. Her house was a single-story ranch with a long porch running the length of the front and dusted with needles from the trees. The woman who answered the door was, I guessed, seventy-five.

"Duo Maxwell! Hello again. How you spoil me. And you brought your boyfriend this time. Come in the both of you."

"Ah, this is my friend, Heero, Mrs. Claremont."

I could tell he wanted to clarify our relationship, but I think the woman thought he was embarrassed she knew he was gay. In any case, she ignored him, greeted me with a smile, and took both bags.

"Wine, too! That's the ticket! You boys stay put. I don't need help putting away groceries. You'd put them in the wrong place anyway—"

"I couldn't miss the refrigerator!" Duo called after her retreating back.

"You don't know a crisper from a meat compartment!" she shouted back.

"Crisper?" I asked.

He shrugged. "For cereal, I guess."

We had wine coolers and excellent cookies, while she opened her mail. "Why, you sent Moses one of lovely cards from that Japanese artist. Yuy something. Thank you, Duo."

I jumped. Thankfully, my drink was half consumed so it did not spill. Whether or not Duo knew I was the artist Hiro Yuy, I was not sure. I wanted him to know, and, yet, I feared his rejection if he thought I was pursuing him, chasing and hounding him with my cards. Mrs. Claremont and Duo were discussing the card, comparing it to others. I sat rigid, concentrating on my simple task, holding my wine cooler and cookie. I did not want to choke out of embarrassment.

"'Ro?" Duo's voice brought me out of my trance.

Mrs. Claremont repeated her question. When asked what I did for a living, I told her, "I'm an artist."

"So is my husband!"

"What kind of art?"

She seemed happier after that. I guess it was easier for her to talk about him after introducing his name into the conversation. She patted the new cards into a neat pile. I was glad to see my design on top, and the topic closed.

"He paints. Great big canvases the size of a wall. Would you like to see his studio?"

"Yes."

I wanted to see it more than anything if it was so large it could hold paintings like that. We toured part of the house on our way out the back door. Few knick-knacks but many books leaned in orderly rows or neat stacks on the shelves we passed. I liked the yellow walls and wood trim of the rooms.

"He built the studio himself, with a friend years ago. A Geodesic Dome."

Inside, natural light shone through several skylights, but artificial lights were everywhere. When she flicked on the switches, the place was completely illuminated and several ten by fifteen foot canvases in varying stages of completion sprang to life.

"Skies. Clouds, storms, moments before the sun sets or rises. Moses just loves to paint skies."

"They are fantastic."

"He hasn't finished this one of the rain clouds."

"No, but there will be plenty more rainy days for him when he gets home," Duo said.

The two chatted on while I examined the paintings more closely. The man was a fine painter. We did not stay long after that, because Duo had a funeral to prepare for and I had cards to design, if nothing else. We thanked Mrs. Claremont for the drinks and cookies and she handed us each a plastic bag containing more. Five cookies in mine. Then we left, out along the same road, but, instead of heading down and back to the city, we turned uphill.

"Know where this leads?" he asked me.

"No idea."

We passed a gate; the doors chained backwards, wide open. The road narrowed as the grade increased. Plastic forms, like six-foot long horse troughs leaned against a cyclone fence. Flattened mounds, weed and moss covered, lined the sides of the rutted road. As they walked further, the mounds appeared rounder and the weeds sparser, until I could make out fresh piles of dirt, one after the other.

"This is the back door to the cemetery," Duo said.

"Those are…"

"Castings leftover from digging the graves? Yeah. Looks like some discarded grave liners, too. Shouldn't leave stuff like that around."

"Dead giveaway," I said. It was a joke and he got it. We both smiled.

"I thought, since we were so close I'd stop by their office. I won't be a moment. Thought I might as well leave the message in person while we're so close. Personal touch. If you don't mind. Man, I should have asked first, shouldn't I've?"

"Take your time. I really have no timetable today." Not one I could not change. I could move back the card design work to make room for this and then cut into my reading later. I could slash the dinner hour short, too, if needed. My timetable, like my design work, was mostly cut and paste.

"Thanks."

We arrived at a low building after a few more minutes of pleasurable walking. I remained outside, taking in the fresh air while Duo conducted his business. He came out rolling up his shirtsleeves. He had worn a green and blue striped shirt over a gold t-shirt and well-worn jeans. Casual nice.

"Do you need to go home and change before the funeral?"

"No time. I got a viewing in an hour. No, I keep a suit in my office. Bathroom-- shoulda put in a shower. I have a mini fridge there for food, too. And I gotta tell ya, I've slept on my couch there more times than I wanna remember. Things are better now."

"That's good."

"I hired Trowa, you know."

"I heard." I smiled and let him do the talking.

"Yeah, of course. What was I thinking? He's working out great. Nice guy. Hilde didn't think he talked enough, but he was okay by me. Too bad they didn't hook up, and then maybe its better they didn't. I wouldn't want to hear her go on about my employee."

"No, that wouldn't be fair to him." I hoped he was not going to tell me they were going out, too. I could not bear hearing that.

"Hilde thinks he likes Quatre."

I did, too, but what was I to say? I did not know where Duo and Quatre stood these days, or ever. "Quatre's attractive and personable."

"Likable. Yeah, I got that. So, you like him too, eh? Well, he's a nice guy."

_I did not like Quatre much at all! _"He is friendly." That sounded noncommittal enough.

Duo sighed largely. That did not sound like a defensive boyfriend or possessive lover to me. _Were they even sleeping together_, I wondered? If Duo were mine, I would be unable to keep my hands off him. It was hard enough not touching him as we walked. The urge to hold his hand was killing me, and I am not a demonstrative person.

"Nice. Too nice." Duo sighed again. "I don't know if he's looking for refined or slutty, but I don't think I'm the center of his world, if you get my drift?"

_Yes. Yes, I did!_ Duo was dead center in the heart and core of my world. If Duo was actually at both the center of Quatre's world and the hub of mine, then our worlds would be overlapping more of the universe than they were. No, Duo was occupying a place on the edge of Quatre's world, because Quatre and I shared nothing but him. _But what of Duo? Was he a little bit in love with Quatre? Did he like me?_

He was staring at me, his eyes penetrating my soul. "He said you took him to meet the Peacecraft's at the Sanc Palace. Or are they back to Darlian and Merquise? I can't keep the names straight."

"Oh." Yes, oh, because that meant that Duo had talked to Quatre earlier. I was his second choice, then. "Yes. It was on the way home. He seemed distraught and needed a distraction."

"Oh, okay." Duo turned away satisfied, I hoped. I was not ready to explain my living arrangements to him. It was just too pathetic.

"Which way?" I asked, since Duo did not look like he was going back the way we came.

"Short cut."

"Of course." I followed the bouncing braid to a narrow ditch-slash-trail, which led to a dog-width parting in a fence, which opened to a dead end street. How fitting. All roads I took were dead ends, especially by conversational tracks.

"Nice houses in this area, but pricier 'cause they're newer and the street's maintained." Duo seemed chipper again.

"Mrs. Claremont's home's very well situated."

"Yeah, I think she's got one of the best." Duo pointed out a street sign at the first intersection. "See where we are? Two blocks down and five over and we're back to where we started."

And that was the problem. I had spent my Sunday morning with Duo Maxwell. I had him all to myself, and what had I made of it? We were back to where we had started.

Except that at the tip of his braid he was wearing the blue hair tie I had put in his April card. I touched it and he looked me in the eye. I said, "Nice color."

"My favorite."

Our smiles met in the middle. "Mine, too."

Maybe I could alter things between us with my next card. After all, May 1 was May Day, and I had my special card ready for Duo.

(o)

The month of May began auspiciously. I showed Trowa how to update the schedule on the computer. He did not roll his eyes, but it was close. He had a more technical background than I had by far. We had oodles to do, including an autopsy to start the day. I excused myself to use the facilities as the phone rang.

"Get that for me."

Trowa picked up the phone and I ducked into the bathroom.

He was still on the phone when I came out a minute later. "Quatre wants you."

_That was one way of putting it._

"I'll be in the morgue," I replied. 

_That was another way._

"He wants to know if you are still on for tonight."

"Yeah. Same time, same place."

It wasn't that I didn't want to _talk to_ Quatre; I didn't want to _think about_ him. I was whacked out with guilt. I was seriously falling for Heero and as much as I liked Quatre, I wasn't in love with him. I had no idea where I stood with Heero.

I knew Heero like Quatre. He'd admitted as much, even introducing him to his rich friends. Heero hadn't introduced me to anyone, much less the Peacecrafts! Fuck! How did he fit into that crowd? Quatre did. I didn't. And I guess Heero did, too. Fuck. I was in a foul, foul mood.

Well, I'd free up Quatre to do as he liked to whomever he liked, be it Trowa or Heero or some other Mr. Perfect who wasn't me. We were going out that night and I had decided to level with him. I didn't want to lose his friendship and I was afraid I would.

I was mourning it already.

Trowa was right on my heels. I pointed and he rolled the body from the cooler, up the elevator, and placed it on the autopsy table. He was experienced with the job now and so could transfer even this obese body from the carriage to the table without assistance. Since the comfort of the patient was not a consideration, the transfer was accomplished with what might appear to the uninitiated as a rather brutal combination of pulls and shoves, not unlike the way a thug might manhandle a mugging victim.

Trowa took the body's measurements, noting as he went along, "Big guy. Glad you invested in this total-body scale."

"Yeah. I thought of everything."

Together, he and I repositioned the body and Trowa placed the 'body block' under the cadaver's back. The plastic, brick-like appliance forced the chest to protrude outward and the arms and neck to fall back, thus allowing the maximum exposure of the trunk for the upcoming incisions.

"Ready," I declared.

"Onward then," Trowa muttered.

He turned on the tape recorder, adjusted the overhead lights, and then checked to make sure that the body named on the autopsy permit matched the toe tag. He read the ID number and name off into the microphone, and then, "Checking for abnormalities of the external body surfaces."

"Hold on," I said, stopping him. "The tape is bunching up and... oooh, looks bad for voice recording tonight."

"Figures," Trowa snorted. "We get us an autopsy and an embalming tonight and the equipment breaks. We could sure use another techie. I don't know how you did this alone."

I chose to ignore that. "Tell you what, you start making autopsy notes on the diagram and checklist, and I'll run through my list of resumes. I get them all the time, but nobody good. Still, there might be a kid who can do the grunt work. Maybe I should call Quat and cancel tonight. I'm in no mood to be pleasant."

I returned from my phone call with a creased brow. "He's not answering," I said, and then added on a string of unflattering descriptive words and applied them to the world at large.

Trowa stood back and let me take out my animosity on the cadaver. I am highly skilled with the 'bread knife', a large, scalpel-like knife, and this one was my personal prized property. I executed the initial Y-shaped incision in the trunk without a moment's hesitation. The arms of the Y extended from the front of each shoulder to the bottom end of the breastbone, and the tail of the Y extended to the pubic bone, making a slight deviation to avoid the navel. The incision was very deep, extending to the rib cage on the chest, and completely through the abdominal wall below that. I felt the return of my usual smile.

I must have looked more grisly than happy because Trowa avoided looking into my eyes. He didn't want to know what was going on inside my head, and if the 'eyes were windows into the soul', then he really didn't want to probe further.

"Quatre hasn't changed," Trowa said. "I recognize him from school."

"You don't say," I muttered as I set into peeling the skin, muscle, and soft tissues off the chest wall. This I did with deft strokes of the scalpel. "I didn't know you went to a private school."

"Yeah, private, rigid, narrow-minded, and insular in its attitudes toward anyone outside of the Winner clan. I lasted about a week."

We both laughed. "Not your shit?"

"No. I was a definite outsider. Anyway, Quatre hasn't changed much since then. He was a nice person then too, which made him memorable."

"Nice, yeah. And good looking no doubt," I said.

Coincidentally, I freed the cadaver's chest flap, and then pulled it upward over the body's face. The action exposed the front of the rib cage and the strap muscles of the front of the neck. Trowa made a face reflexively as the smell of human muscle, raw meat, reached his nose.

"He doesn't seem to remember you," I told him.

"Aside from the color of my hair, I don't look much like I did. I probably grew two feet, gained a hundred pounds. I didn't account for a second glance as a kid."

"Not to mention the piercings," I grinned. "I don't suppose you had earrings as kid."

"Actually, I did."

"Well, I would have remembered you."

Trowa frowned then chuckled deeply. "My ass wasn't developed until I took up gymnastics in college."

"There's more I notice about you than…that, although…"

Trowa turned on the electric saw, drowning out further conversation. We shared a grin then dug in, so to speak. To open the rib cage, he began with a single cut up each side of the front of the rib cage. This allowed him to separate the sternum and the ribs from the rest of the skeleton. I used a scalpel to dissect the soft tissues stuck to the back of the chest plate, and then helped Trowa peel it back, exposing the heart and lungs.

Trowa paused to record our progress.

"He died at the nursing home hospital," I read off the report. "I'll check for blood clots, then."

Before disturbing the organs further, I cut open the pericardial sac surrounding the heart, then the pulmonary artery where it exited the heart. I stuck a finger into the hole in the pulmonary artery feeling around for any blood clots which had dislodged from a vein elsewhere in the body, traveled through the heart to the pulmonary artery, lodged there, and caused the man's death.

"Bingo! Clotted up! Case closed. Let's wrap this up and leave the nasty part for the night crew."

"What night crew?"

"The imaginary one. The one I hire someday. Okay. You finish with this and call in the report. I'll roll up the next one."

The day was long, but with Trowa helping me, it seemed to fly by. Maybe that was because I was not looking forward to my date with Quatre. Damn it all. Why couldn't somebody be hot for _just_ me?

"Duo?" Trowa checked the wall clock. "We have enough time to swab down the place, but no more. I'll start mopping."

"Yeah. Meet you at the door."

I discovered an envelope under the front door of the funeral home. I nearly missed it and would have if I hadn't checked the door lock before leaving for the day. I added it to the pile of mail in my hand. It wasn't unusual to get mail, but usually it was junk mailers jammed under the door.

"Whatcha got there?" Trowa asked. "Oh, another card from your secret admirer."

"Looks like it." I held it up. The card was gorgeous; covered with blowsy red roses water colored by hand. When I opened it, pressed flowers slipped to the floor. Purple violets.

"Roses are red, violets are blue," Trowa recited with a straight face.

_**"Friendship grows… from which sometimes love blossoms," **_I read.

"Someone's got it bad for you, like I said before."

"Maybe."

"Figured out whom, yet?"

"Maybe."

"Enjoying this?"

"Very little."

Trowa cleared his throat or laughed. I mixed the two sounds up.

"Better figure out where you're going with Winner first, don't you think?"

"I've figured it out."

"Good." He looked down at his keys. "See you tomorrow, then."

"Yep."

I was, in fact, meeting Quatre in fifteen minutes, or however long it took me to get to the campus pizzeria. Our date, dove-tailed between my work and his class work, would begin with dinner and end with either a great night of hot sex or, more likely, just end-- as in "end our attempts at dating."

I don't know any other guys that would hold out as long as we had. None. Ever. I wasn't getting any younger. No, mostly it was getting harder and harder to deny my attraction to the artist who liked spending time with me, unhurried, undemanding. He liked my smell and my eyes and my hair, if Hilde was to be believed. If Quatre was as disinterested in me as I figured, then it was time to quit the act and get on with things. Even if it freed up Heero and Quatre to start dating. No. I would not let that happen. I would step into the path of the love train and be mowed down, slammed and ground into the tracks of my tears—Oh, God, was I becoming maudlin!

End Chapter 5

**TBC in Chapter 6 -- June Bug (in June)**


	6. June Bugs, part 1

**Greeting Cards**

This is an on-going story arc, based on Heero's greeting cards, and updated monthly, _at least_.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

**Warnings: AU, male/male pairings, language, ****embalming and autopsies in detail**

* * *

**Chapter 6 --**

**June Bugs, part 1 **

I was, in fact, meeting Quatre in fifteen minutes, or however long it would take me to get to the campus pizzeria. Our date, dove-tailed between my work at the morgue and his graduate studies, would begin with dinner and end with either a great night of hot sex or just end, as in "end our attempts at dating." No middle ground. Not for me. I'd been playing outfield, right in the middle for months now. It was time to go all the way for the home run.

Sitting and watching the other patrons, nursing a beer, listening to the mix of youthful voices and loud music made me wish I were somewhere, _anywhere,_ else. I liked clubs, people, action, but not this night.

Then the murmur quieted and heads turned. The moment Quatre stepped into the eatery reinforced the notion of just how damned lucky I was. He turned heads. Mussy blonde hair and that boy-next-door charm. Nice clothes. He was something else and he was there for me.

"Duo, I'm so sorry I was late. Class went over and—"

"It's okay. Beer?"

"Ah, no thank you. Soda, please. Early morning for me. Have you ordered a pizza?"

"Yeah." I could feel hundreds of eyes burning into my back. Every man and woman in the place wanted to be in my place. Burning a hole clean through me to get to him. Yeah, I was so hot Quatre was gonna need asbestos gloves to handle me in about another minute.

"I ordered 'to go.' Hope you don't mind, but the vibes are getting to me here. I've got soda at home."

"But we just sat down, Duo."

"I just want you alone. Just you and me, no sharing with the world for an evening. I got my car outside."

"That sounds nice. Let's go, but I have mine, too. I'll follow you that way I can leave for home and you don't have to do all that driving."

"Or you could stay over and take a ride in the morning with me. I'm in early."

"We'll see, Duo. Still, I'll take my car."

"Okay."

He waited for me to pay for and pick up the pizza, and then he put an arm over my shoulders on the way out. He was determined to be proud and gay and let me have my pride, too. He was rich and beautiful and thoughtful and…what was my problem?

My problem was that he didn't want me. Desire me. Crave my body or my mind. We had a good time together, but. Just but. I decided this time I was gonna try my best, plead if I had to, but I was gonna get him to admit something.

By the time we met at my bedraggled digs, I had agitated myself enough to start up a begging session.

"If it's something I'm not doing right, just tell me. Like my hair. You want it undone? It's a bitch to get straightened out again, but what the hell, right? I think I've been pretty low key, haven't I? Not too demanding, up until now. Or, is that the problem; am I too tentative? You want me to just move on you, dominate you? It's not really me, but I can swing it. In fact, I'm pretty easy ya know? Hey, if you want kinky, I know if I call Chang he'll understand (eventually) when I say I need a pair of restraints, and fast. He'll bring em right on over."

"Duo no! Don't do that. Put down your cell phone. Let's talk."

"Oh." As good at talking as I was, I discovered I had nothing to say.

"To tell the truth, I've never done anything. _Anything_. You were my first boyfriend."

_WERE?_ "**Am**. I **am** your first boyfriend."

He forged ahead. "First to come out with. First to kiss. Everything. I had to know if I could do it, in case… well, but that doesn't sound very nice of me."

"You mean in case you found someone else? Someone, ah, worth it?" I was incensed, and not the kind you light to cover up the other smells in your room.

"Yes, but it **could** have been you. I didn't _know!_ You are attractive, fun, smart, everything I was looking for."

"But…"

"Cute butt, too." Quatre pulled out a tentative smile and tried it on. It fit. I smiled back.

"Right."

"I'm really new at this, Duo. I only just suspected, okay, _admitted _to myself that I might be gay a few weeks before I met you. That's why I was working at that restaurant to meet a prospective boyfriend, and quit right after I met you."

"Yeah, it worked. You're sure you are, ah, gay?"

"Oh, yes, perfectly sure. Kissing you is wonderful, and I don't miss breasts at all. It's the rest, the next step that terrifies me."

"Oh, the sex part. Yeah, I can see how that could be a problem. Two dicks and no jane."

Quatre's face turned pink and then he laughed. "Even with a 'jane' I'd have a problem."

"Don't tell me Mr. Voted-Most-Fuckable has totally evaded sex this long?" I did not believe it.

If he had been red-faced before, he was scarlet from neck to ear-tips now. "I was a late starter, I guess, and I studied all the time; at least, that was my excuse for not dating girls. I never considered boys—not ever—until graduate school, and then I met you. Duo, I'm so sorry to let you down. This was not the way I wanted us to turn out. I do have…feelings for you."

"Say no more. I kept racking my mind for a reason why I was so unappealing, but I never guessed it had to do with you being a newbie."

"So, what do we do?"

"About what?"

"About…us?"

"It depends on what you _want_ to have happen." I wasn't letting get off that easily.

"Oh, thanks, Duo, put the ball in my court."

"Okay, you're right. That's not fair. I'm not sure what I want."

That was when I felt a warm hand on my arm and Quatre shifting to sit close, thighs touching. _Had he changed his mind and decided to make a move, now? _Funny thing how my heart didn't jump in anticipation.

"I think you attach importance to what makes you happy and what doesn't, Duo. I think you want a boyfriend who knocks your socks off and is crazy about you, you, you! And… who's not afraid to show you, and make time for you, and…right? I am right, aren't I? And you know what? I think there's someone out there who feels that way about you. I'll bet you know who I'm talking about-- and it's not Trowa."

"And certainly not Wufei!" I put in before he said too much. "Okay, since you didn't pigeonhole yourself into the 'makes Duo happy' or the 'not' category, I guess I'm supposed to? And that's so damn hard because you are so damned near perfect I'd be a fool to let you go without a fight."

"You are no one's fool, Duo. You aren't in love with me, you're in lust, and I'm very flattered. If I were ready for more, I'd choose you to show me, because I trust you."

"Aw, man… We're breaking up, aren't we?"

This was all pretty depressing, actually. I could feel another relationship crumbling as he nodded. As kind as Quatre was, endings hurt.

"Duo? I have an idea. Try something for me, please?"

"Okay."

"Close your yes and don't open them until I say so. Now—"

I closed my eyes and within seconds felt his lips on mine. God, it was so nice I could feel the tears threatening to fall. And then he pulled back, but not far. I could feel his warm breath on my ear.

"Keep them closed. Now, who was kissing you? I don't mean actually, I mean, who were you thinking of?"

"You!" I was choked up and fought back an embarrassing tear.

"Okay, one more time, only this time I want you to let your mind go where it wants."

I didn't get his meaning, I thought, but I steeled myself for another kiss. I would not break down! I thought of the morgue, which was sobering, but I needed to go to a nice place, a place where I felt comforted. Hilde came to mind, and then I was sitting in the coffee shop, Heero drawing my portrait. Suddenly I was saturated in sunlight, and, yes, corny as it sounds, my tears evaporated.

"Open your eyes."

Quatre was smiling.

"You're smiling," he told me.

"You are too," I told him.

"We are going to be all right."

"Still friends, right?" That was important for me to nail down right off.

"Of course, Duo. You were my first love."

"You mean 'infatuation'."

"Call it that, then. It's time for us to move on."

"Trowa likes you," I blurted out. I didn't mention that Heero was probably interested, too. I did not want to deliver Heero into his hands.

He had the decency to blush and examine his fingernails. "He hasn't said a thing."

"That should tell you something about him. He wouldn't interfere while we were dating, and it isn't just because he works for me."

"Thanks. You know, Heero--"

_Leave him alone! _"Nice guy, so do you want something to drink?"

He searched my eyes a moment as if deciding whether to push the "Heero" topic further. I must have looked resolute, because he dropped his eyes and the subject.

"No, thank you. I'll go now. I wasn't kidding about having an early start tomorrow, and it is quite late."

_Was it? _I hadn't noticed.

"Will you be all right?" he asked.

"We already established that."

"Yes, well, I'll see you later…at the coffee shop."

"Okay."

"Oh, Duo? I wouldn't want to be your excuse for having let _him_ get away." Quatre gave me a serious look. "And don't you dare ask 'who' I mean."

As I felt a chill ripple across my back, he opened the door and left. And that was that. _What had he meant by that? Did he mean he would be pursuing Heero? Or, did he mean he I should get over him and take a shot at Heero myself?_

(o)

The moment I arrived in the Peacecraft Palace, Relena greeted me. She must have been watching for me out the front, parlor window, God knows for how long, unless she knew my timetable as well as I knew hers.

"You've been writing in that thingamajig." Relena said with a chic flourish of her wrist, discounting my little notebook's usefulness and waving it to its thingamagiggish grave.

"Sketching. I was drawing downtown buildings. I ate there."

_And walked around wondering how Duo's date with Quatre was going. _I pictured a crash-and-burn-date scenario and must have smiled, because Relena took it with wrong way, thinking I was encouraging her.

"You could show me your pictures sometime."

I was not adept at social game playing, but I didn't miss overt overtures.

"If you want."

I opened the book and let her examine the day's work.

"I recognize the museum here by the sculpture out front. Lots of buildings!" She took the book from my hands and helped herself to the pages. She flipped backwards. "You draw a lot of flowers but not many people. Oh! Who's this?"

_Duo, isn't he extraordinary?_

"Now, don't tell me… I wonder… A braid that long is unusual. I saw a guy dancing at the hospital's Valentine Day's party with hair like that. So you know him?"

"Duo Maxwell of Maxwell's Mortuary. Doesn't everyone, eventually?" I deadpanned.

"Mortuary? Oh, that one. There is more than one, but—"

The insistent ringing of the hall phone saved me from the rest of her response. No one ever called the palace phone number asking for me. I dealt with the card companies exclusively through e-mail and my agent and my few friends and acquaintances used my cell number. I closed my sketchbook and turned toward the staircase, when Relena called out.

"Heero, it's a man, asking for you."

"Who?"

_Who could it be? _I had called my agent once from the palace number, who then probably saved it. _That was what had happened._ Well, my agent calling meant more work and more work would not be a bad thing.

I walked to where the old-fashioned phone stand and chair awaited my attention, and Relena shrugged and stepped away. I should not have taken the call.

"Hello?"

"You're a hard dude to run down."

"Ty." My heart sank. How Tyler Keel, ex-boyfriend, barely foster brother, tracked me down, I did not know. Staying with the Peacecrafts, with no driver's license from the Sanc city-state, no listed address, phone number, bills to lead him to me—how had he done it? "Who gave you this number?"

"You'd think you didn't want to see me."

"I don't. We're over. We've been over for a long time. We should never have even started. Now, answer my question."

"I'll always find a way, you know that."

"Leave me alone. And leave my agent alone. I'll tell him not to take cold calls again, since that must have been how you got him to give out this number. This isn't my place, by the way. I'm only visiting a short time so I don't want you bothering the residents here."

"Tell you what then, Hiro. Give me the address and I'll just pick you up. You can stay with me."

He used my Japanese name, saying it correctly. I hated that he knew it. However, he did not know where I lived, which implied that he did not have an address or figure that out from the number. The palace was unlisted. That meant he had no idea where I was, yet. He would eventually.

"No thanks. As I said, repeatedly, we are over. Now, go away and don't call here again. I'll not take your call and I'll leave instructions so no one else will."

I slammed the phone into the cradle so hard I may have cracked the casing, but touching it any longer, well, I was afraid he could get at me through it. That sounded crazy, but the feeling of his filthy hands on my body had taken months to get over. Now I had the sound of that nauseating voice in my head again, just as I'd thought I'd flushed it away for good.

"Heero? Are you all right?"

"Relena? Oh, yeah. Someone I'd rather not talk to. Ever."

"Give the name to the security officer for the palace and it will be screened in the future, if you'd like. Not now, though."

"No, the chief of security is not on duty now." I knew the roster and all the schedules for the help, the residents, my friends (when I could), and myself by heart. Detective Chang Wufei, for instance, took his breaks at eleven and three, was off Wednesday and Sunday, and had a two week vacation coming up next month. On entering a new place, some people located the bathrooms, I sited the clocks. I do not know why I let time rule my life that way.

Relena was staring at me.

"In the morning, I'll do that," I said.

She continued to look up at me expectantly.

"Thank you, Relena."

It reminded me that I should be more courteous. She was providing me with free room, board, and a studio, despite her brother's insistence that I was a freeloader. I was aware that her graciousness stemmed from more than her feelings of obligation. Yes, I had saved her from an assault, for which she was grateful. It had been nothing on my part, but she saw it in another light. I had become her hero in fact and in name.

"That's very kind of you," I tagged on.

"Oh, Heero… If there's anything else, just ask. Would you like to watch a movie?"

"All right." I had nothing else to do, and, possibly, it would distract me from the call from Ty. She was kind hearted, but I wished she would stop pursuing me. Maybe she could be satisfied with us becoming just friends.

I do not recall what the movie was about. The small theater in the palace showed the latest DVD release-- a romantic comedy, if the excessive necking and laugh track was any indication. My chair was comfortable. Relena chattered a little afterwards, but seeing as I was incommunicative, decided that I really was ill and that I should go directly to bed.

I agreed, not wanting to explore what my illness might be, and ran up the stairs. Once in my room, I removed my shoes and socks and then my shirt. My cell phone buzzed in my pants pocket and I nearly threw it against the wall. I imagined Ty magically transferring from one phone to the other like an electrical evil spirit.

"What?!" I shouted into the tiny cell phone, hoping to shred his nerves with my tone alone. Creative people have vast imaginations; that is my excuse.

(o)

Okay, so I wasn't going to cry my heart out, but I wasn't at all happy. Here I was all on my own again. At least before, I could say I had a boyfriend. That validated my existence. Now, I was back to Duo Maxwell, broker to the dead, the God of Death. Untouchable. Un-sob-lovable.

I was wallowing in self-pity. I was glad to be home or I might have gone for a long, dangerous drive and never gotten back to my grungy apartment.

I live in a really awful place. No wonder Quat wanted to scat (that rhymes!) The building next to mine was an abandominimum. Maybe 'Fei would take down the crack house if I asked him nicely, but then he'd know where I lived.

Anyway, had I been forced to drive home, I wouldn't have done anything too stupid. I would have ended up at work. One thing about being a mortician, I have never had any suicidal tendencies. I always sought solace, in the end, with the living.

This time, as usual, I decided to call Hilde and take the chance that she might be in. Even if I had to listen to her describe her fantastic love life, which was better than thinking about my sucky life alone in my sucky apartment. To my surprise, she picked up.

"Yeah! Talk loud!"

"Hil? Where are you?"

"Duo? I'm coming outta the ladies at a restaurant waiting for Wufei to get off work and meet me. Hey, you outta come! We could go dancing. Bring—"

"NO! Ah, thanks. I'm not feeling sharp. You go on."

"Catcha later, then!"

"Yeah, bye."

That was fruitless, unsatisfying, and a waste. I listened to my messages, made a note of business ones and… well, that one was interesting—a dinner invitation. I wondered if I should invite Heero. It would give me voice to cling to. A nice voice.

I pushed away thoughts of Quatre already telephoning Heero with the news of our break up, and worked at entertaining a more positive attitude and following through on my mind-healthy impulse. For a fleeting moment, I wondered if I should call Heero this late at night. I wondered about as long as it took to punch his number.

(o)

"WHAT!?"

I growled ready to tear into Ty's throat if I could reach far enough or become electrically charged particles so I could chase him through the ether. I was really on a tangent this time, I realized, as the voice morphed into Duo's face.

"Hey, 'Ro, it's Duo here. Bad timing, huh? Sorry, I can catch ya later."

"Duo?" I looked at my watch. "Oh, no, that's all right."

"Sorry to call so late—"

"Not late. I thought the call might be… forget it."

He did not say anything for so long that I thought he might have hung up. I must have sounded insane over the phone. That impression, I had to fix.

"Duo? You there? Sorry, but I just had a phone call out of the blue, an unwanted one, and I thought this was a follow up to it. Please, don't hang up!"

"Oh, okay." He didn't sound so sure, though.

"So…what's on your mind?"

"Oh, well, ah, its kinda short notice, I know, but Mrs. Claremont called. She's inviting us to dinner."

"Are you sure?"

"Well, yeah…"

"I mean, didn't she invite you and your boyfriend?"

"Yeah, but she means you. She likes you."

_But do you?!_ I nearly screamed that into the receiver. There was a brief silence.

"What was that, Heero?"

"What?" I had not screamed "But do you_?"_ I swear!

"Could you fill me in on that?"

"On what?"

"I'm going to jump through this phone and kill you!" he yelled.

"That isn't possible (although less than a minute ago I was contemplating doing the same thing,) but if it were, why?"

I heard Duo sigh loudly. "Because it sounded like you were gonna say something…important. Forget it. Listen, can you go out Saturday evening—not too late? Rather early, in fact."

"Yes. I have no other engagements." Although I would have to shuffle around my "to do" list quite a bit. I could be impetuous; I had several days to work it in. "Where should I meet you? Are we walking?"

"How about I pick you up at your place? I'm not sure how soon I can get away. Anyway, we can park at the cemetery then walk the rest of the way, okay?"

_Not here!_ "I'm, ah… not home. I, ah, won't be here then either, ah, or anytime about then. I can meet you at the coffee shop at three. Is that too soon or is three o'clock good enough?"

"Three's fine. I might not get there till four thirty or so, though, if you don't mind waiting?"

"No, I have drawings I can complete there as well as anyplace." _Anyplace?_ _Why not even at home, smart guy? Don't you think Duo might wonder why I would choose to do my work in a coffee shop and not at home? _Did I sound stupid or suspicious or what? Luckily, he did not press me for particulars.

"Fine. See ya."

"Okay, and thanks, Duo."

I hardly saw him all week. He slipped in and out of the coffee shop in a blur. He waved. I waved. Quatre came and went, but didn't stay. Wufei and Hilde sipped tea politely, but didn't stay. I don't know why I stayed. Trowa stopped by, asked how things were going, and I told him I didn't know. He didn't know either but something was up with Duo, and he was concerned.

"Maxwell talk to you this week?" Trowa asked.

"No, he hasn't been here long enough for me to say 'hi' to," I replied.

"All right, then. I'll find out. He works with sharp tools and shouldn't be distracted like he's been on the job."

"Thanks."

I hoped Trowa could help Duo. I wished Duo would come see me and we would talk. If I saw him, I would stop him and ask him to sit with me, if only for a minute.

At least I knew why I had stayed.

(o)

I shut out everything else and waited for Saturday to come. I couldn't face anyone. I didn't want to come apart. I wanted to think over what had happened and heal before Saturday. It wouldn't do to break down over the guy I'd just broken up with around the new guy I wanted to impress. That would be bad.

Speaking of bad, the police brought in an autopsy for us, a high priority case, and they didn't want the hospital involved. Ordinarily, I might have turned down the job. I didn't like those. Too technical for me, but it wasn't for Trowa and the day had only begun and there was only one embalming on the books. One embalming wouldn't take long and then there would be all that time to think. Alone.

"We'll take it!"

"Normally I can put away one complete autopsy in under two hours, assuming it's straightforward and I'm not interrupted," Trowa said. "_And_ if both of us have our minds on what we're doing."

I ignored his pointed remark and accusing green eyes. I might have been a little distracted, but I could focus on the job.

"What makes one complicated?" I asked to keep him talking.

"Oh, detailed explorations and special dissections like exploring the bile ducts, removing the eyes, or spinal cord. I had one take me nearly four hours once."

I fiddled with the tools, inattentive, thinking about my sorry love life, as usual.

"Duo?"

"I try to forget."

"Yeah."

"You've done these more often than me," I told Trowa. "I'll observe and assist you, 'kay?"

"Okay."

"Note the blood seeping under the skin here and here," I pointed out as the autopsy was underway.

"Not normal." He agreed.

I watched as Trowa reduced the cadaver to a wide-open cavity. Aside from observing, my job was to clean up blood spills and follow any other directions.

"I always thought of this as like field-dressing a deer, if you've ever done that," Trowa explained.

"Nope."

"Plus we have to take samples for slides and further testing."

"The note appended to the work order says this is a court case so anything we can tell them we will," I told him, just in case he hadn't read it.

"I'll keep that in mind."

**(o)**

**A/N: If autopsies make you queasy, please, stop here. Skip the next 5 pages and I'll insert another note to let you know when it is safe.**

**(o)**

The dissection began at the neck and proceeded downward, eventually removing all the organs of the trunk in a single chunk. As he identified the arteries in the neck and upper chest, I tied a long string to each and then cut them off, leaving the ties so that whoever did any future the embalming, when the case was closed, could more easily find the arteries for injection of the embalming fluids.

Trowa detached the larynx and esophagus with a swift cut. He yanked the larynx and trachea downward and adroitly used his sharp blade to free up the remainder of the chest organs from their attachment at the spine. A couple deft moves and the diaphragm was cut away from the body wall, after which the abdominal organs were pulled out and down. All of the organs remained attached to the body only by the pelvic ligaments, bladder, and rectum. With a single slash with the blade, he severed this last connection, and all of the organs were freed in one mass.

"Here you go," he said, passing the organ collection to me. "Have fun."

"I'll deal with that mess in a minute," I told him. I dumped the organs on the dissecting table mounted over the body's legs. "I wanna watch what you do with the brain."

"First, I have to elevate the head so that it's like on a stiff pillow. Here, pull the body block out from under the back."

I was glad to have already tied up Heero for Saturday night. Quatre had a Friday night discussion group and an early Monday morning class, so that would seriously limit their chances to see each other. _Pillow?_

Trowa nudged me to action as I stood there daydreaming about Heero and Quatre.

"Yeah, that plastic block. Okay, now place it under the back of the head. Thanks Duo. Now, I apply my magic touch..."

Trowa cut from behind one ear, over the crown of the head, to behind the other ear with a single swipe of his trusty blade. Like with the trunk incisions, it was deep, all the way to the skull. Dividing the skin and soft tissues into a front flap and a rear flap, he tugged hard to force the front flap forward over the body's face, exposing the top and front of the skull.

I admired his skill. I could do it cleaner, I thought, but he was quicker.

"This takes some strength," he grunted.

"Uh, yeah. Like being 'scalped'."

One more backward tug at the back flap of skin over the nape of the neck, and he had completely exposed the top hemisphere of the skull.

"Right. Would you hand me that electric saw over there?"

"We call it a Stryker saw-- for no good reason."

"Stryker? Hn. Pass it over. Thanks."

Trowa turned on the saw, and cut around the equator of the cranium. He shut it off and said, "This cut is tricky. It has to be deep enough to cut all the way through the skull, but not so deep that the brain is cut."

I leaned in for a better view.

"See how the cut is not totally straight but has a notch here so that the skull top won't slide off the bottom half of the skull after everything is sewn back up," he pointed out.

"Nice job, Tro'. I hadn't even noticed, 'cause you did that so fast."

That pleased him and he smiled crookedly, and then slowly lifted off the skull top, drawing out the odd combination of a sucking sound and the sound of rubbing two halves of a coconut.

"Here, you can hold onto that for me."

I took the offering gingerly and returned his smile with a smirk of my own. "So generous, Tro-man."

I examined the bone fragment in my hand, turning in back and forth, noticing that the outer membrane coverings of the brain coated the inside of the skull top. Work distracted me from my miserable self-absorption. I hadn't thought about my own problems; my abortive relationship with Quatre, in particular, had been forgotten for an entire five minutes.

Trowa cleared his throat to draw my attention off the piece of skull and on the task at hand.

"So, the top of the brain is now fully exposed. After the chore of getting to it, it's a relatively easy matter to get the brain out. There are no tough ligaments that hold the brain in, so really all that needs to be done is to cut the spinal cord. See?"

"Cool. Presto!"

I stalked off in the direction of the wall of jars. I took one off the top shelf and marked the label with the code off the toe tag. On quiet days, we prepped the empty specimen jars, sticking on labels and filling them with formalin (a solution of formaldehyde gas in buffered water.)

"Thanks," he said. He took the jar and carefully hung the soft brain in the jar with a string support.

"What's with the string?"

"That's to prevent it from having a flattened side from lying in the bottom of the jar because the brain is heavier than water and therefore sinks. The brain is very soft and easily deformable, but after it hangs in the jar for a couple weeks, the formaldehyde 'fixes' the tissue, not only preserving it from decay, but also causing it to become much firmer and easier to handle without messing it up."

"Gotcha." I sighed audibly. "Now for the worst part."

"Nastiest, yeah. I grant you that."

At the dissection table, Trowa isolated the esophagus from the rest of the chest organs. He picked up a pair of scissors and cut the chest organs away from the abdominal organs and esophagus.

As he separated the lungs from the heart and trachea, I stepped in. "Let me?"

"Sure. Be my guest." Trowa stepped aside. "You just want to show off your knife skills."

"Well, I am good."

I quickly recorded the lungs' weight then sliced it like loaves of bread into sections about one centimeter thick using my handy-dandy, foot-long, sharp knife in only a few seconds elapsed time.

"I'm further impressed," he said. He stepped closer to observe my technique. "Remind me to let you cut the holiday roast."

"Right."

Trowa weighed the heart and then opened it along the pathway of normal blood flow using the scissors. He moved quickly, opening the larynx and trachea longitudinally from the rear and then examined the interior. All the while, he was marking the chart with notes, recording his findings as he went along.

"Nothing notable yet."

I mumbled some agreement and drifted for a moment. If Quatre had been too busy for me, maybe he'd be too busy for Heero. 'Course, they had those mutual friends. Damn. I kept coming around to that. It just burned me to think Heero didn't introduce me to the Peacecrafts-- not that I was much to show off, but it was insulting. I caught the tail-end of what Trowa was muttering.

"…and I'm dissecting the thyroid gland away from the trachea with scissors."

I stood back and watched him weigh the plump gland and cut it into thin slices.

"Sometimes the parathyroid glands are easy to find, other times impossible," he noted. "Any clues yet?"

"I don't see anything obvious that was a cause of death, no."

"Right. Nothing unusual." Trowa turned over the abdominal organ bloc, so that the backside was up. "The adrenal glands are located in the fatty tissue over the kidneys and are difficult to find. But here they are. You can do the slice an' dicing this time."

He watched in silence as I carved the parts, ending with the liver, making amazingly delicate cuts for the long, unwieldy-looking blade.

"You hone your skills for long?" he asked.

"Yeah. The best of us," I said with a smug smile, "are able to make every cut with one long slicing action. To saw back and forth with the blade leaves irregularities on the cut surface, which are often distracting on specimen photographs. So the idea is to use an extremely sharp, long blade that can get through a 2000-gram liver in one graceful slice. This is my very own blade which I maintain myself and will let no one else use."

He stared at my blade with open admiration. "I imagine if some attacker entered here at night then you, who are not a particularly tough or strong looking individual, could defend us with one desperate but skillful slash of the bread knife."

"Almost cutting the assailant in half." I chuckled along with him at the thought. "That's right."

He might have been kidding, but it was true.

"What comes next," he said to me, "is we strip the intestines from the mesentery using scissors..."

"The pussy method," I inserted.

"... or bread knife..."

"The macho method," I insisted.

Trowa carried the tangle of intestines to the sink where he opened them under running water so that all the feces and undigested food were cleaned out. As one might imagine, "running the gut" was extremely malodorous. The material in the sink smelled like a pleasant combination of crap and puke.

Silence reigned. There was no unnecessary commentary, for a second.

"Talk about 'shit work'," Trowa said.

I laughed and he continued to wash off the internal surface of the bowel, and then carried it back to the dissecting tray where he examined it and made a few notes.

The more I thought about it, I knew I shouldn't blame Heero for keeping me at arm's length. Quatre never introduced me to any of his high-brow college pals. Look at the work I did?

When Trowa opened the stomach along its greater curvature, the smell of gastric acid was unforgettable.

It was repulsive. I was repulsive. No wonder I couldn't keep a boyfriend for long.

"I'm turning up the fan." I made the offer and he nodded his assent.

"More internal bleeding," Trowa muttered. "Write that down for me."

"What?" I heard what he'd said, but I didn't know what it was he wanted me to write. I wasn't really fully _compos mentis_.

"Forget it. I've got it."

"We are lucky tonight," I commented as he scribbled some notes.

He weighed the stomach and again took slices for examination. "If you mean it's a good thing the patient hadn't eaten solid food in a while, then yeah. Real lucky. It can discourage you from eating any stews or soups for a long time."

The pancreas, duodenum, and esophagus were each opened longitudinally, washed out, and the weighed, sliced, and examined internally.

"These are the kidneys," he said as he removed, weighed, halved lengthwise, and examined the solid organs. "This is the urinary bladder." And he repeated the procedure.

"Since it's a male, I check the testes for enlargement, as they are in this case; it's necessary to remove them. So I pull'em up into the abdomen by traction on the spermatic cord, cut them off, halve them, and prepare them for examination."

"Ouch," I hissed with a sharp intake of air.

"Almost done," he reassured me, not that it was necessary.

"The aorta and its major abdominal branches get opened longitudinally and examined," he said.

Toward the end of the autopsy procedure, the room was not a pretty sight. Trowa wasn't particularly neat when he worked the dissection area.

"It's a legend that old-time pathologists were so neat that they'd perform the entire procedure in a tux right before an evening at the opera."

"No kidding," he muttered.

The autopsy table around the patient was covered with blood, and some had dripped onto the floor.

"Just try to keep blood on the floor to a minimum so neither of us slips and falls," I said as I tore off a handful of paper towels, dropped them on the floor, and rubbed at the floor with my shoe.

The hanging meat scales used to weigh the organs were covered and dripping with blood. The pen Trowa had used to write organ weights on the clipboard was also smeared with blood, as was the clipboard itself, which was an especially unappetizing juxtaposition.

However, none of it bothered him enough to call for a cleaning session. I was more meticulous and wanted it clean.

"Uh, this place is a mess," I said. "Guess I'd better get cracking."

While I mopped up, Trowa sealed the organ samples in specimen jars and labeled them carefully.

We don't dissect and analyze them at the funeral home. We save jars of parts for a variable length of time, but at least until the case is 'signed out,' which is when the final written report is prepared. In the case of those bodies labeled "cc" for "court case," we keep them until an investigating officer picks them up. We usually just bag all the tissues that need disposed of and dump them in the tub marked "for incineration."

"So what do we do with the body?" he asked.

"Let's close it up, and lock it up in the keep. You didn't think we were just going to leave it like this tonight?"

Indeed, the body was now an empty shell, with no larynx, chest organs, abdominal organs, pelvic organs, or brain. The front of the rib cage was also missing. The scalp was pulled down over the face, and the whole top of the head was gone.

I replaced the top of the skull and pulled the scalp back over. "Hand me the twine, my good man." The ball of thick twine was next to the still-bloody scissors. "Wipe those off too, while you're at it."

"Sure thing, boss man." Trowa chuckled and stalked off to wash up.

I threaded a fat needle and expertly sewed up the wound using the type of stitch used to cover baseballs, leaving a line going from behind the ears over the back of the skull, so that when the head rested on a pillow in the casket, the wound would not be visible.

Trowa returned in time to helped place the chest plate back over the chest, and then I sewed the body wall, again with baseball stitches, so that the final wound resembled a 'Y'.

"Ummm, the whole trunk is collapsed, especially the chest since the chest plate was not reattached to the ribs," he pointed out. "It's not right."

"Remember how I asked earlier how it was that you couldn't put anything back in a box the way it came?"

"Now who's a comedian?" Trowa asked, smiling.

"Okay, on the work-order papers it doesn't say if the body is to be embalmed or not, so we stitch it closed. The family may not have decided what to do; otherwise, we could wash it down and stuff the body cavity with filler to re-expand the body to roughly normal contours. Saves time, if we know, but we don't."

**(o)**

**A/N: The worst is over. If you were skipping the autopsy, you can come back to the story here**

**(o)**

"Uh, huh. We got more work yet to do. What do you want me to do with these?" Trowa indicated the tray of instruments that I had lined up in order of size: the bread knife, a scalpel, and scissors.

"Rinse them off then use the pick-ups to put them in the tray with disinfectant."

"Pick-ups? You mean 'forceps'?"

"Only scriptwriters say 'forceps'," I told him, finally breaking a smile.

"Right, you drama queens should know," he smiled.

"Funny guy. You outta be a clown. You know all that anyway. Why did you ask?"

"To see if you were listening."

"Clown, yeah, that suits you."

"So, what you think killed that guy?" he asked.

"Well, we know what didn't, right?" I asked in return. "No knife or gun shot wounds, bruises, lacerations, or anything like that."

"Right."

"The heart looked okay, no arterial blockages, nothing obvious on any of the intact organs. Tests will tell. From what I can figure from the few scraps of information attached here by the hospital, it's a case against a doctor proving the patient got improper treatment. Ah...it mentions he had heart problems and was given coumadin."

"Can I use the computer over there?" he asked.

"Be my guest," I said and watched as he powered it up.

In a few minutes, Trowa had some information for them.

"Hey, this is interesting. Listen: 'Drugs that are helpful in therapeutic doses may be deadly when taken in excess. For example, coumadin is a beta-blocker used to calm and slow the heart , and it's often thought of as a blood thinner used to prevent blood clots. Drug interaction is another risk. If you're using the blood thinner coumadin, combining it with aspirin or Tylenol can lead to an increased risk of bleeding. Over-dosage effects, such as too much anticoagulant, producing bleeding into the skin, or a mixture of too much aspirin with Coumadin, leading to a dose-related rash, are seen. Hair loss as a result of heparin or Coumadin is also seen.'"

"So, the doctor may have made a mistake and over-prescribed for this guy or not told him to avoid aspirins or something. The family may have a case. The samples we took will be able to determine the amount of that stuff in him," he said.

"We noticed the internal bleeding, but who could tell about the hair with a bald guy?" I pondered the possibilities. "Hold on...go back...What's that about rat poison?"

Trowa checked the search items and discovered one about dogs dying from eating rat poison containing coumadin.

"You're right. It is the active ingredient in many rat poisons and may cause heavy bleeding and death if too much is taken. It's been around a long time. 'In the early 20th century, bis-hydroxycoumarin was discovered after livestock had eaten spoiled sweet clover and died of a hemorrhagic disease. Although it is no longer is used primarily as a rodenticide, several long-acting coumarin derivatives are used for this purpose and can produce profound and prolonged anticoagulation.'"

"Maybe someone fed him rat poison to kill him knowing that it might be masked by his medical condition?" I grinned. "Look up how we can test for that poison!"

"That would be in this text up here, and not on the internet." He hauled down an over-sized book and spent a few minutes thumbing through it. "It's not too hard."

"You any good in chemistry, Tro'?"

"Yeah, I was going to college to major in it."

"Cool. I might have liked that."

"We'll need the Bunsen burner and that specimen jar," Trowa said as he flipped through the directions. "It starts with the liver..."

Less than an hour later, Trowa appeared delighted to have solved the mystery. "Okay, last step. It says: if this dissolves in alcohol and turns pink, it's the rat poison."

"Drink up!" I said as he doused the beaker's contents with the alcohol.

"Pink it is!" he crowed a moment later.

I let Trowa fill out the forms with his observations and conclusions and call it in to the detective working the case. He had done a great job. I checked the clock. There was lots more of the day to go. Next thing on the schedule was a simple embalming.

"I'll get started on the next job so we can cut out on time," I shouted on my way down to the cadaver keep, wheeling away the autopsied cadaver. "Unless you wanna break for lunch?"

"You are kidding, right?" Trowa said. "I have no appetite. No, just work through."

So, that's what we did. No break. I brought up the next body and time just flew. Embalming was the kind of work I could do in my sleep. I sometimes did, and must have this time because I hardly noticed what I was doing until Trowa stopped me.

"I eat waffles for lunch with catsup and mustard, not that you are listening to me—"

"Trowa, I was listening."

"So?" he asked me, frowning. I probably missed something important he had said.

"A needle pulling thread. Sew what?"

"So, you going to clue me in on what's bothering you?"

"Bothering me? Nothing."

"Duo, you inserted the catheter into a vein instead of an artery and you're filling the vein with **cleaning fluid**."

"The hell I am—shit!" I was. I switched bottles, before the switch had been turned on- no actual corpses were damaged by my ineptitude. "Damn it all. Thanks, Tro. Geez…"

"I'll let it pass and not write you up for incompetence, if you tell me what's the matter."

"Hey, I'm the boss! I write you up not the other way around." I met Trowa's eyes and froze. Heero and Wufei had nothing on skin-stripping stares. "Aw, shi-it."

I had to come clean. "Quat and I broke up last night."

Trowa grunted in a way could have that meant: "Oh, wow, man, that's tough. You gonna be okay? Wanna go out for drinks?" or "I saw it coming. He was too good for you, and you know it, so buck up, bozo;" or just plain "Hn, so what's it to me?" Take your pick.

"He's probably crying on Heero's shoulder at their friends' palace."

"Who's palace?"

"The Peacecraps, Relena and Milli-icky-ardo."

"What the hell are you chin-wagging about, Maxwell?"

"The night you and I were slaving over that dead girl, after my date with death and my clubbing exhibition, Heero took Quatre to meet his friends, the—"

"Peacecrafts, yeah, I heard of them. Big names at the hospital. Yuy's friends with that lot? Quatre, well, I can believe he might be, but Yuy?"

"Well, it is true and he even said it happened. So, knowing just how out of Quat's league I am, I have given him over to the art crowd and rich bitches of Sanc. And that, my friend, is my story. So how about drinks after work, eh?"

"Yeah, sure, Duo. Let's do that." Trowa stared at me, and this time he looked sad.

"Fine then, I'll get the hose and sponge there and clean it all off. Cover it with the sheet and roll it into 'limbo'."

We finished up with the embalming and closed down for the night. He automatically wiped down all the surfaces with a disinfectant, and cleaned up the autopsy suite with a mop and bucket. I read over his the notes concerning his findings, and updated the schedule for the next day.

Twenty minutes later, we were improving our spirits with spirits at a nearby bar.

"I can shower for an hour and still not get the stink of that place out of my hair," Trowa said. "It soaks into the pores."

"It's an illusion. I'll get the ventilation checked. You're blowing out your olfactory. Mine was shot years ago." I finished off my first beer and hailed the waiter for a second. Trowa held up a hand for another, too, so it wasn't just me.

"Oh, by the way, I fixed that tape recorder you brought in the other day. Someone had shoved part of a surgical glove inside."

"Nice."

"Duo, it wasn't fixable. They don't even sell blank cassettes around here anymore. It was a dinosaur. I'll pick up a digital one, if that's all right?"

"Sure."

"Duo."

"What?"

"When I was just starting college I was in an accident. I received a head injury and actually had amnesia for awhile."

"Really? That's pretty rare, isn't it? What happened?"

"I don't remember. It took all summer break to recover. I stayed with my stepsister, healed, and regained my memory, except for what happened to cause it all. The reason I'm telling you this is that I recognize borderline depression. Talking it out helps and I'm here."

I hadn't expected compassion from Trowa Barton. He retained his distance most of the time. I knew he was right, though, and appreciated the chance to open up. I also recognized another opportunity, and if there is anything you can tag on me it's 'opportunist,' but not in a bad way.

"I know Quat and I weren't 'made for each other' or anything. It just hurts not to be something special to anyone anymore, ya know? And to watch everyone else move on. Will I ever find someone who wants just me?"

I could feel his eyes studying me as I examined the water rings on the table.

"I don't think the artist is interested in Quatre. Not that way. He can't take his eyes off you when you're around. You should ask him out."

"You should ask Quatre out."

"You mean that?"

"Yeah, I do. Fresh start for both of us."

"Okay," Trowa agreed. "I will if you will."

I grinned. I had him now. "I already did. We are going out to dinner on Saturday."

"You…already--?"

"Gotcha."

That should keep Heero out of Quatre's plans for a while; hopefully, for long enough to work my magic and charm the socks (and pants someday, please?) off Heero.

* * *

**End** **June Bugs, part 1 **

**TBC in June Bugs, part 2 **


	7. June Bugs, part 2

**Greeting Cards**

This is an on-going story arc, based on Heero's greeting cards, and updated monthly, _at least_.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

**Warnings: AU, male/male pairings, language, ****embalming and autopsies in detail**

**Chapter 7 --**

**June Bugs, part 2 **

* * *

I thought Saturday would never get here. But it did. The moment I got in his car, I was aware of his unmistakable scent. It was unlike any cologne I had ever smelled, not that I was overly familiar with men's beauty products. I breathed deeply, releasing the pent up tension I must have been holding on to since I had received the unwelcome call from Ty, and enjoyed the pleasure of Duo's company. I had, ever since my unfortunate time with Ty, developed better instincts, and Duo was thoroughly good, through and through.

As proof, he did not awake me as I dozed off. I can't believe I did that now. I was not one to let down my guard that way, which must have signified how deeply I trusted him on a subconscious level. When I opened my eyes, we were torpedoing along the highway skirted with orchards and open, cultivated land and dotted with farmhouses.

"This is the long way to Mrs. Claremont's house."

"You might say that."

I checked the time, as I often did to keep my life on schedule. We were half an hour into what should have been a five-minute ride. That is not to say that I did not enjoy the drive into the country. Duo pointed out the old family lots and recited history of the area. He turned off the main highway, bumped along a gravel road, and then parked.

"This way."

I followed him to the edge of an orchard. The flowers of spring had long gone and been replaced by bright, green leaves. Setting sun shot golden light through the openings overhead.

"C'mon."

The ground was damp, muddy in spots between the trees, so we hopped, sloshed, and slipped single file deeper and deeper into the orchard row. After a few minutes, we were lost in a world of lush greens, dappled light, and growing shadows. I nearly ran Duo down when he came to an abrupt halt and spun around to face me.

"Whoa!"

"You're the one that stopped without warning."

"Yeah, guess so. Quiet, isn't it?"

"Yes." Just us. My heart beat a tattoo on the inside of my ribcage.

"There's a house on the other side. The trees mask it. I kept hoping it would come up for sale, and then it did."

I waited for him to continue. He was staring into the trees. "What happened?"

"Couldn't afford it. 'Sides, what would I need with an orchard to manage? I got enough on my plate as it is with the mortuary. Still, I like to visit. The folks that bought it are nice. They have two kids. They let me visit. Like this."

"You come here alone often?"

"No. Just for the quiet. It's on purpose. No one can see us or hear us. No one knows we are here or what we are doing."

"Right." _RIGHT! What are we doing here_, I wanted to scream?!

"So, anything you or I say can just stay here. When we leave, it's like it didn't happen. We never have to refer to it or what happened again. Just say it here and pretend we didn't the moment we leave. Okay?"

"Maybe," I had no idea what he had in mind now. "You're not a murderer on the side trying to drum up business, are you?"

He laughed, thankfully, realizing I was joking. "Fuck! Wouldn't Trowa get the shock of his life pulling off the sheet and finding your face… heh, heh… yeah, well…" His voice trailed off.

He seemed nervous, running a hand through his bangs and stuffing it in his pocket to contain the movement. "I don't mean I have anything really bad to say or anything. Just, you know, like when there's something on your mind, something stuck there so that you can't think about anything without it getting in there somehow?"

"Yes." That I understood. Duo was always on my mind. Stuck.

"Good. So, I thought if there was something you wanted to say that wouldn't leave here unless we wanted it to, or something I wanted to say, then we could just get it over with and then I'd be able to get my work done. You know, I use very sharp knives at work, and if I lose track of what I'm doing, I could cut off a finger."

He was giving me the opportunity to get something off my chest! I should own up to sending him the greeting cards. I leapt at the chance and my mind and brain warred a moment and blurted out, "I was wondering…"

"Were you?"

Oh, God. He looked so endearing with a stray wisp of hair teasing his lips. I wanted that.

"If I could have a piece of your hair?"

"Huh?"

He was baffled completely and so was I. _Had that really come out of my mouth? That the kind of revelation he meant!_

"Ah, sure. Kinda weird…" he said as he untied his braid and shook the past-the-ass hair out. "Where do you want to cut it?"

"I'll do it," I said, choking with excitement, "so it won't show."

There was a lot of hair. All I wanted to do was bury my face in it and his scent. I didn't think he would appreciate me doing that, though, so I opened a pocketknife and reached for a lank at the back, underneath. I embedded my hand in the most luxurious chestnut brown hair ever produced. It felt exactly as I imagined it would. With the fine tress in one hand and my knife in the other, I cut. His wide eyes tracked my movements as the blade swept past his neck.

"Shoulda asked if you were some raving lunatic slasher," he muttered to mask his uncertainty and possibly his discomfort.

"Too late." I smiled crookedly and enjoyed his shiver in response. With a blade that close to my neck, I might tremble, too. I showed him the hair and then twisted it into a ring, which I tucked into my shirt pocket. "Thanks."

"Ah, sure. Ah, don't mention it." He frowned as he said it and pressed his mouth into one of those "perturbed' lines.

I did draw people; Relena was wrong about that. Drawing faces meant studying them, and I was hyper-aware of the nuances of expressions. This is not to say that I knew what to say or do in response. I was socially inept, as I have said before, but it is worth repeating to underscore the importance of how this all played out.

"You're not gonna do something kinky with that, are you? Or some kinda voodoo thing, you know, like to burn it and then I go up in smoke, too?"

"No. Just a keepsake." I patted my pocket as if it held a treasure; at least I hoped my gesture looked that way to him.

"Oh? Oh, okay. That all?"

_No, I'm not done. I have much more to tell you. I'm crazy about you, I'm certain of it! I want to kiss you! I wish you were mine! Do you like my cards?_

And I thought about saying at least some of those things, except that he grew more exasperated, which made me more uncertain. I had done that to him, of course. He had been happy up until my asking for his hair. He probably had a hair sensitivity issue and it had been too intimate a gesture on my part. Should I explain how, no matter what, I would cherish this lock and never let anything untoward happen to it and carry this piece of him with me forever? God, that made me sound pathetic. _I_ scared _me_.

Now he was expecting me to answer his question. I should try for sounding sane. I refrained from sounding desperate and settled for a composed answer.

"For now, I guess." _Wimp! Could I get any more incompetent at this?_

"My turn, then."

"All right."

"It bugs me that you introduced Quatre to your high class friends, but not me. I've got a bit of an inferiority complex already for reasons I'm not much interested in going into now or probably ever. Anyway, Quat told me all about Relena and Zechs, and he had a good time with you. I guess you showed him a good time and made him forget the sucky time he'd had with me."

I could not get a word in edgewise, which was probably just as well considering the dim-witted things that I could say.

"What I wanted to tell you was that Quat and I broke up. So, if you wanna ask him out the coast's clear."

"Duo--?" I was talking to his back. He was on his way back to the hearse and if I didn't run, I would be wandering the orchard all night until someone found me. My luck it would be Relena, no, Milliardo on one of his midnight haunts. They would make me one of them.

_Wait! Duo just included me with them! I am not like them! I'm human!_ I ran and caught up with Duo at the edge of the grove.

"Duo!"

He stopped, holding up one hand. "I've left the orchard; case is closed."

"But I didn't get a chance to explain."

He cocked his head to the side, waiting. That is when the words stuck in my throat again. _It was the only place I could think to take Quatre because I live there—_that sounded deeply bad and wrong. _I wanted to extract from him a confession of his feelings for you, and then-_- what? Kill him? That made me sound like an insane man! Well, I probably was!

My time was up.

"Yeah, well. We gotta go or we'll be late for dinner. Not that I'm some anal-retentive asshole about being on time…"

"I am," I confessed. Well, in spite of all my efforts not to spoil everything and blurt out an unintentional piece of incriminating information, I could demean myself rather well. "Neurotic."

We had reached his car. "Oh, yeah? Well, I'm kinda that way about being professional and all at work, and Mrs. Claremont doesn't hold dinner. If we want it hot we'd better high-tail it over there."

I stared out the window on the way back. I thought I had seen a FOR SALE sign on a side road. "Turn here and stop. Just for a second."

"Better be. Oh, I hadn't noticed that sign. Good eyes, 'Ro. You see in the near-dark?"

"Only vampires can, you must know that," I said.

He chuckled. He probably didn't know what I knew. I took a flyer from the small box staked along a dirt drive.

"We passed it on the way here and I noticed it. Says… there's a farm house and out buildings and acres of land."

"Must be expensive. What'sit say? Shit!"

"It's probably negotiable."

"Unless they're doing half-price deals for morticians, it's out of my league. C'mon."

"You think you can qualify for half this?" He had more money than I expected if it were true.

"Maybe. The business is good. I have a lot of money in it. If I had a partner buy part of me out, I'd have some ready cash. I don't know. Probably all a stupid dream."

"It isn't stupid to dream, but it might be to live in a dream world," I said.

He grunted and strode back to the car, barely visible in the failing light. I folded the paper and stuck it into my pocket. I followed Duo to the car and rode in silence most the way. All the way, as it turned out. I was thinking over his money problems, avoiding all thoughts about what had gone on in the orchard for a change. I recognized the winding road to the hilltop cemetery we had visited before.

"Maybe you could swing something by selling the land to the neighboring property owners?"

Duo brightened. "That's a good point. I don't have time to be a farmer anyway. Okay, so I'm gonna park up at the cemetery and from there we can walk to the Claremonts' or run as it turns out."

As he parked in the space marked 'funeral director" I asked, "So, why don't we park in front of the house?"

"Think how it would look, a hearse. Most people, especially older ones, don't like how it stirs up interest."

"It reminds people of how short life is." Then it all soaked in. Duo had told me he and Quatre had broken up. He was free! "Duo, I'm sorry you broke up. I hope--"

"Not your fault." Duo reached into the back and pulled out a brown-paper-wrapped bottle of wine. "Gotta hurry now."

I had no other choice but to follow. We dashed across the parking lot and down the narrow lane leading out the back gate. There were the dirt mounds, more than before, the discarded, plastic flowers, broken and mixed with the florist's foam and mud, grey in the twilight, and a Caterpillar backhoe looming in the shadows off to the side. We had had rain earlier in the week and clouds thereafter, leaving muddy spots where puddles had been.

"Slow down, Duo! It's too dark. I don't know this path like the back of my hand."

I skirted a pothole, slipped on the mud-caked road, caught myself before falling, and called out for Duo to slow down again.

Seconds too late.

"Fuck!"

Duo wind-milled about and landed half in a rhododendron and half in the wild briar. I was at his side moments later, but could tell he was fine. The wine bottle nestled safely in the thick foliage. I gave him a hand up, grabbing one of his forearms since his hands were coated in muck, and then nabbed the wine with my free hand.

"Shhh…"

I stood still and listened.

Rib-it, krek-ek, Rib-it, krek-ek, Rib-it, krek-ek…

"Tree frogs!" Duo announced.

Mercurial as ever, Duo stood, eyes closed, listening in wonder at the rising chorus. Lights from the house across the street gilded the outline of his face. I wanted nothing more than to kiss him. I actually stepped closer, but my movement must have reminded him of my presence and he came out of his trance.

"Cool, eh? Heh, heh… good thing I still have my quick reactions. I haven't done fancy footwork like that since my soccer days."

Interesting. "I played also."

"Forward?"

I nodded. "You, too?"

"Sometimes, sometimes midfielder. I liked to cover the field and run all the time."

"I can imagine that," I said, and I could! "I was never tall enough to be a goalie, but I thought it would be cool to snatch the opponents' victory out from under them like that."

"Yeah, that would be cool."

I didn't notice that my hand was gripping his bicep when Mrs. Claremont opened the door, getting us and taking the wine from my other hand.

"Thank you dears for this. It is a celebration tonight. Chet, that's Mr. Claremont, is home from the hospital."

"Need to wash up!" Duo cried out.

I had to set him free then. He set out on his way to the bathroom.

Mrs. Claremont led me to the same front room I'd visited before.

"Hello." I shook Mr. Claremont's hand from where he rested in a wheel chair and sat on the edge of the couch.

"Take off your coat and stay awhile," he told me. "And call me Chet. She's the missus, but I'm just plain Chet."

"He thinks it make him seem more artistic." I handed her my jacket.

"Informal," Chet corrected her as she opened the hall closet. "So, you are the Hiro Yuy. I imagined a little old wizened Japanese man bent over his rice paper making those cards."

I looked past his wife, who was picking something off the floor, but Duo wasn't in sight.

"That's right. It's a living. I thought your paintings were magnificent. The size… the skies make me feel as if I could step into one and be transported." I said the right thing. The "Hiro" topic was dropped and Chet was pleased to discuss his work until Duo joined us and we settled around the dining table.

Duo told us about a case he and Trowa had solved for the police. He danced about the details but told the story in a very amusing way. You'd have thought he worked at the corner deli and not a mortuary by his glancing references to samples and parts. I limited my participation to skirting the subject of my work and turning it back on art, flowers, Duo, or the food.

After dinner, Chet offered me for a private tour of his studio, rather pointedly leaving Duo and his wife out of the invitation. I must have smirked. I imagined the men going for a smoke and brandy, leaving the women to gossip in the parlor, and from the look Duo gave me, he had read my mind or thought the same thing. He looked particularly delectable miffed.

What I had said about Chet's art had not been flattery. His largest work and the skies in particular were extraordinary. I helped move a few paintings and rearranged his brushes and paints so he could better reach them.

"Has Duo told you about my meeting him, the first time?" Mr. Claremont asked.

"No." I could not explain the little I actually did know about Duo or how few conversations of a personal nature he and I had ever had. We were friends and not secret-sharing ones. I meant to stop him from telling me the story, but I was not fast enough. I was also curious as hell.

"Then he probably expects me to do it." He sighed, but smiled.

"You don't have to—"

Chet shook his head and began, "A few years ago, it was raining and cold, so it might have been in the winter or early spring. Not that it matters, but Mrs. Claremont would remember.

"I took longer walks then… I visited old friends in the cemetery. My wife thought that was too dismal for her so I went alone.

"This one day it saw a poor thing, a girl, I thought, mourning over a grave. It was near where I was going and she had no umbrella as the rain started to come down seriously. I paused to offer her mine to share and was surprised when a young man's face looked up to me."

"Duo," I said for him.

"Yes. He didn't look at all well, like someone who hadn't eaten properly for some time, so I invited him here. It took little convincing. He needed company, food, and a warm place to stay.

"That evening it was important to take care of his most immediate needs. As you can see, I'm much taller, even when seated, but Mrs. Claremont insisted he be dry, so he wore a robe of mine and ate soup, while she washed his clothes.

"We learned he was the mortician who had built the new funeral home. Oh, we had heard about him, even seen him once or twice before. Everyone raved about his kindness and thoughtfulness, but we had not had occasion to meet in a formal manner."

"A good thing for most people," I said, and we both smiled.

"He stayed with us a few days, regained his color, and told us his lover had died of an illness. He had some debts to settle and would have to change apartments. Of course, we told him he could stay with us as long as he needed. We have no children of our own, you see, and we was a pleasure to entertain, in spite of his grieving state."

"How long did he stay with you?"

"Not long at all. A couple weeks, and then on after he told us he was gay and his boyfriend, Solo, was the one that died. Yes, that Solo, the singer. It had been very secret, which is why Duo got none of man's estate when he died."

"I didn't know Solo was buried here."

"Not many do. He did it all, you know. The services, funeral. The family took the ashes, but Duo paid for and marked a grave, for himself I'm sure. No one visits that grave but Duo."

"I can't imagine…"

"Conducting the funeral for your own beloved? No, who could imagine such a terrible ordeal? But it was his job and no one knew about their relationship, so, there it is."

"Yeah. Thanks…Chet."

"Now you understand why we are so interested in you. He's got that sparkle in his eyes a person can't hide that when they are happy. You're an artist, you see that."

I did, but I thought that was just Duo's special charm. To imagine him dull-eyed and listless, God, after being in charge of his secret-lover's funeral, having to grieve alone, move—it was too terrible to consider.

"I can see you are a fine young man, Hiro Yuy. Bring him joy."

"I'll try." I meant it; though, I did not have a plan for how I might do that. Just the start of one.

"Good! We should be getting back before the missus thinks we got lost in the dark."

I pushed and Chet rested quietly as we wheeled from the studio to the house. Duo and Mrs. Claremont were drying the dishes when we came in.

"See? What did I tell you?" she said to Duo, who was grinning at their shared joke.

"Yeah, as soon as the work's done, they come back. Chet? You always have good timing?"

"That's my gift!" Chet laughed.

It was time for Duo and me to go. Mrs. Claremont brought us our coat and jackets. When she handed me mine, she said, "A few things fell out of your pockets when I took it earlier. I put everything back, but I might not have put them in the right places. I just wanted you to know I wasn't snooping."

"Thank you," I said. "I had a nice time and the dinner was very good."

"The best restaurant in town!" Duo declared and with a few more laughs we left.

At the end of the walkway leading to the street, I reached for his hand and linked fingers. I do not think I could have done it in the light of day. He didn't say anything for the longest time and then wiggled our clasped hands a little and asked, "Ah, Heero?"

"I don't want you to skip off and fall again. I don't want to have to fish you out of the berry patch or creek in the dark. A-and I don't want to lose you." If he looked hard enough he could see my smile.

"Okay."

We walked hand-in-hand all the way to the cemetery. Lights lined the dry, clean-swept roadways, so there was no real danger necessitating the contact. I released his hand and we walked the rest of the way to his car in silence.

When I go into the car, he turned to me, "Where to?"

_Oh_. I knew what I had to do then. I had a plan. "It's June, you know."

"Yeah, I manage a calendar of events at work all the time."

I reached into my jacket pocket, found the envelope, and slipped it out. "This is for you."

He stared at the card then up at me then back to the card before saying anything. "Special delivery? I can open it here? Now?"

"Yes. You can open it."

"I was wondering if one would show up. Getting kinda used to getting one of these, ya know? Real mystery."

I watched him rip the seal and remove the card.

"Heero, this is cool. What are the bugs flying around the roses?"

"June bugs. They are common this time of year where I came from."

"Oh yeah? You'll haveta tell me about that sometime. Later, though. How did ya get the iridescence on the bug wings?"

"Paint over gold leaf."

"Cool. Real gold. What's the special occasion though?"

"None, really. June is for wedding cards, but under the circumstances I thought giving you one of those might be a little premature."

Duo's response was perfect. A broad grin split his face. "No shit. Guess I should read what's inside."

He was taking this all as well as I had hoped. I felt a suffocating veil had been lifted from my spirit. I did not think I could put myself into some kind of emotional lockdown if he refused me now. "Yes."

I watched him read the lines, lips moving.

"Want me to read it aloud?" he asked.

Not that I didn't know each and every word, and the ones that had come before, been erased, reworked—but I wanted to hear him say them.

"Yes."

He cleared his throat and read:

"_**Look again or love escapes your notice. **_

_**Wait too long and it escapes your grasp." **_

"It's from y—"

"I've been sending these—" I began. I really wanted to explain.

"You have?"

"For a while. See—"

"To me? What about the Val—?" Duo interrupted me again.

"Not the Valentine. I mean, I did, but—"

"But I just found it on the ground! How--?"

"I make greeting cards for a living, but I lost it, but I meant to give it to you, but—"

"But why—?"

"Why on the ground?"

"Me!"

I finally worked up the courage to confess everything and we kept pouncing on one another's lines. Now I had lost my train of thought and Duo's too.

"I'm lost. Where were we?" I asked.

"Huh?"

"Forget it."

"No way!" He clutched the card in one hand and rested his weight on the other, leaning toward me. "Do you mean it? What it says here?"

"Um, yeah. I wanted to meet you for the longest time, but I couldn't start. So, I did the cards. To tell you what I couldn't say aloud to your face. Then you had a boyfriend, so I shouldn't have pursued you at all."

"You are so—" he began.

"Cool, say cool."

"Weird. But cool weird."

"That's good?"

"That's good."

"Good."

"Real good."

We smiled at each other for a full minute.

"So, ah, Heero? If I'm to take you home, I need to know where you live."

I had learned a little something about Duo's past, so I guess it was time to share some of mine and explain my living arrangements. "Sanc Palace. I-I don't live there! I mean, I do, but it's only temporary. I have a room and studio space."

"You're shitting me."

"No, it's a strange arrangement, I know. I don't even pay rent."

"Of course not."

The conversation was actually very exciting; at least I felt this excitement fizzing inside me. We were really talking. I told him things I hadn't said to anyone else. All this stuff I'd been holding inside and it felt so good and he wasn't kicking me out of his car or giving me strange looks like he might push me out while driving away, maybe on a fast turn. I had seen that happen to someone in a movie once.

"I saw that movie, too," I heard him say and then I realized I had said all that aloud too.

"You did?"

"I'm not dumping you because you live with the Peacecrafts free of charge. Hey, I might wanna get in on that myself!" He held up his hands in surrender and laughed. "Ha! Just kidding."

He just charged the entire car with all this positive energy. Did he know how his eyes shone and his teeth, were they sparking? I wanted to run my tongue along those teeth and get a charge. He was the most exciting person in the universe and I was sitting inches away from him about to burst with feelings, and he was talking to me.

"I just want to know why the palace? Well, that's not all I want to know but that's a good place to start. You know, I don't know a thing about you. You just appeared in the coffee shop and starting hanging out all the time."

"It's all mixed up with my saving Relena Peacecraft from an attacker," I said. "I moved to Sanc and was staying in a hotel downtown and trying to find a studio. I passed the gallery area, looking, dreaming, when I saw a man stealing a girl's purse. I heard her cry first. He hit her. I chased him half a block and tackled him. He pulled a gun on me."

"God! What did you do?"

"Took it away and held it to his head until he pissed himself." Heero smiled.

"Where'd you learn how to do that?"

"Oh, long story. I'll tell you sometime."

"Okay. You'd better, too."

We smiled at each other for a few seconds.

"So, the police were called and the purse returned."

"The girl must have been grateful."

"She was." I checked one more time. "Sure you don't want to come in and meet the occupants?"

"Not any more. Not tonight, anyway."

"Oh, okay. Well." I turned back and kissed him. I was not much, hardly a kiss, a swipe, but it was lip-to-lip contact, and fast. What I had wanted to pull off was a lingering good-bye kiss, but he did not kiss back so cut it short.

"What was that about?" he asked.

_Was the kiss too sudden? Did I shock him? Was there real electricity?_

I had to say something, and I had already decided not to hide how I felt. What good would that do now? I was too far along to give up or pretend I didn't care or to back out. I could feel a connection between us.

I could sense energy, sometimes negative, like with Ty coming at me through the phone, only with Duo it was positive. Right at that moment, I could feel energy exploding around me in all directions.

"Heero, that wasn't some accidental contact."

With one hand on the door handle, I would have taken off then, but Duo latched onto my shoulder with a viselike grip, keeping me in place. Duo acted like a conduit for all that crackling power and we made that special connection.

I knew exactly what to say. "What we had was like a date tonight, and I just touched you and kissed you and now… I feel like you're mine."

I stared into his eyes, glittering in the low light and knew the timing was right. I thought too much about energy and time. I thought too much at the wrong times and wasted a lot of energy.

As sure about everything that I was, I still had to ask for that reassurance that we were thinking along the same wavelength, "Are you?"

He smiled and my heart leapt.

"Sure."

_What a relief!_ I smiled back_. _"I think I'll finally get some sleep tonight."

"Sweet dreams then."

"You, too."

"Oh," he said as his smile drew wicked and his eye glinted with amusement, "I'll dream, but they won't be sweet ones, more along the lines of… hot."

I would not sleep a wink thinking about that.

* * *

End Chapter 6

**TBC in Chapter 7 -- Fireworks (in July)**


	8. Fireworks, part 1

**Greeting Cards**

This is an on-going story arc, based on Heero's greeting cards, and updated monthly, _at least_.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

**Warnings: AU, male/male pairings, language, ****some embalming and autopsies topics covered **

* * *

**Chapter 8 --**

**Fireworks (in July) part 1**

* * *

"Hey, Hilde."

"The woman of your dreams is not picking up, if you get my drift, so leave a message. That's all, babe, 'cause if I don't already have your ID, I don't wanna get to know your better. Bye, honey!"

"Not in, eh? Well… Guess what? He _kissed_ me. Give me a call back when you—"

"Whoooo kissed you?!"

"Ah, so you _are_ in."

"Screening my calls, dearie. So, who kissed you?"

"Wufei." That was well received. I heard a squealing like a teapot about to blow that nearly left me deaf. "Jeez, Hil. Whodoya think I'm talking about?"

"Kitty Quat?"

"Dark Ages. I'm talking New Age." I tapped my finger on the mattress counting…then gave up. "You are no fun tonight. Okay, I'll give you a big hint: greeting card designer and _artiste extraordinaire_."

I used the tip of my braid, slightly damp from my chilly shower, to paint his name in the air.

"_Heero_ kissed you? It's about time. Lord, gay guys are as dumb as straight. I thought you came with intuition and sensitivity and that, ah, gaydar, thing, but no. You are as clueless as the rest of the Y-cromos."

"Y-cromos? You mean males? Where do you come up with this stuff?"

I painted a big "Y" on my chest and added the "uy," liking that feeling a lot.

"Anyway, he likes the way I smell and he kissed me and he's hot, hot, hot. God, I want him now, here, so much I am not going to sleep AT ALL thinking about him. Oh, and he held my hand to keep me from falling."

"Well, wasn't that sweet?"

"It was thoughtful, not sweet. Candy is sweet. Heero is thoughtful."

"I thought you said he was hot."

"Hot and thoughtful."

"He's got a cute ass, for sure."

I frowned at the phone. Too bad it was all wasted on Hilde. "What are you doing judging guys' asses? Especially _my_ guy's'"

"He's not yours, or are you official now?" she asked, deftly avoiding answering me directly.

"Ah, yeah, I guess we are. He called me _his_."

"Did he? Sounds domineering. Not the way I pictured him and not what you need. I'll have to rethink this guy now. Has he called you? You know, proper follow through?"

She could think and re-think Heero till Hell entered the Ice Ages. I was done with _thinking_ about a boyfriend, and out of major time periods to draw from. I was ready for action _out _of my head and in the real world again.

"You mean call me tonight? Hil, I just got home. We just parted company for the night. Now, why on _earth_ would he—? Follow through? That's for tennis players or golfers. I ain't either of those and nor is he, ah… Hold on, the other phone, probably business, but… hey gotta go. Bye."

I could see the caller ID and knew it was Heero calling me on the landline phone. I hated to cut Hilde off that way, but she'd understand. "'Ro? Whatta surprise!"

"Ah, why? Is this too soon? Or too late?"

"Not at all." Man, I didn't want to spook him off already and he sounded worried. "Whatsup?"

"How are you?"

"Pretty damned good. Thinking about you."

"I was thinking about you, too. I'd like to see you again. Tomorrow? Lunch? Can you get away?"

"Whoa, doggies! Slow down. Tomorrow has a full schedule, so I'll say maybe. Can I call you?"

"Anytime. I'll give you this other cell number. I'll be canceling this one."

"Leaving your past behind, heh heh?" I meant it as a joke, but I swear he gasped. "Okay, old one deleted…and …ready for the new. Shoot."

"Bang? Here goes—"

I entered the number as he recited and then gave him mine, although I think he had it, but it seemed all fair and square when we were done.

"Dinner was nice, wasn't it?" he asked. He sounded unsure and tentative.

"Sure was. Nice folks. Nice place. Nice..." I pitched my voice low and sultry for the last, "especially a nice _you_."

"Thanks."

He sounded a little breathy. God, I loved that voice in my ear.

"I'll, ah, see ya then?" I said. And then it was quiet_. Had he gone away?_

"Tomorrow."

"For coffee in the morning, at the very least." I gave him the assurance he sounded like he needed.

"Let's aim for more."

_Yum… pushy._ "Yeah, okay. I'll…try."

"Ah… bye now."

"'Night, 'Ro."

Sadly, we weren't going to make that date right away, because I think we both wanted something good to happen and Lady Luck was no longer in my back pocket. Like, too much good fortune and Duo might not be able to handle it.

(o)

I didn't want to part with Duo's voice. It connected me to the outer world in a comforting, solid way, but a persistent knocking at my bedroom door ended our conversation.

"Ah… bye now."

He wished me a good night and hung up. I answered my door and there to my utter dismay stood Lieutenant Zechs Merquise. "It's late," I told him.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but you do seem to be a night owl. Your light was on."

_And you never sleep_. "Call me Oliver Owl, the notorious fly-by-night."

He didn't laugh. I imagine he thought I was batty as well as avian. Well, _I_ smiled at my jokes, although my smile was very small and very hard to see.

I wanted him to leave now so I could go back to thinking about Duo. "I'm about to go to bed. What do you want?" In my mind, vaporous words came together creating the unimaginative, but metered, answer: "I vant to suck your blood."

"Relena told me you knew the Maxwell who owns the funeral home."

_And he is mine, so fangs off._ "That's true."

"Would you introduce me?"

_Not on your reanimated corpse's life! _"Why not just go to the mortuary and meet him where he conducts business. He practically lives there so you'll have no problem making an appointment—during the day." _And he can fit you for a new resting place at the same time._

"I was counting on your good word to get my foot in the door."

_In the door, then what? At his throat? _"It all depends on what you do when you get past the door? He accepts business from anyone. You don't need me to make arrangements." _I am talking business,_ _asshole!_

"I wasn't intending to make it an entirely-business proposition."

_Wrong! _My blood boiled as his smile turned from obsequious to _knowing_ in a heartbeat and I imagined his vile intentions. The man was not gay, so what else could he want but access to Duo's life essence or his house of the dead to make it into some kind of vampiric head of operations! I had seen that happen in a movie once.

I was not sure of all my facts but I knew this: a vampire is an undead creature that drains the life out of the living. And I was feeling worse by the minute. "I'm sorry. I can't help you."

His smile spread and he flashed his teeth. Perfectly aligned with the fangs neatly hidden away in secret recesses.

"I want—"

_To suck MY blood!_

"—to do some volunteer work. I was thinking of the hospital, but," he shrugged indifference. "When Relena mentioned the funeral home, I wondered if that wasn't the perfect place?"

_For ghouls maybe. _I have been called eccentric, but I didn't say that aloud, even to Duo who had a sense of humor about his job. "I thought you were in the military?"

"I'm on permanent leave."

"Oh." _He had an answer for everything, and that one was good. Too many of the men with inexplicable blood loss, I suppose_.

"…don't need the money. What I need is something to do with all my spare time. You're not going to hold that little…misunderstanding we had against me, are you? Now that I know you're a queer and not trying to shag my sister and shake her down for her money, we can be friends, can't we?"

_No_.

"I could just go over there and introduce myself on my own, I suppose." Smile, smile.

When the man shook out his platinum mane, releasing the strands caught on the glittering one-carat diamond earring, I had an epiphany. Even without those supernatural seductive powers, he could knock the socks off Duo, if he tried…if he knew Duo liked men. If Zechs were gay, he would have been even more dangerous.

I felt reduced to a lump of coal, charred by the intensity of Merquise's uncanny, burning presence. Should Duo meet him unaware of the danger and without my presence to act as a shield, what then? My imagination could turn melodramatic at times, which is my excuse for why I caved.

"If you are up at 7:00, I'll introduce you over coffee."

"Seven…_ Ante meridiem_ —?"

"In the morning, yes. Any weekday."

Zechs withered, as expected. I knew he wasn't a morning person and just the thought of the brilliant illumination from the sun was taxing him already.

"I'll work on it. Thank you. Good night, Yuy."

"Merquise," I said in closing, shutting the door on that disturbance to my equanimity.

I felt uncreative. Both Peacecrafts always left me feeling depleted. Whether a bloodless husk or a burnt briquette.

I fell back onto my bed and stared up at the ceiling, considering my life. I had my painting, my work, a few friends, a scarred past, and my focus—my Duo. It was exciting to think I could call him and arrange a date. A date. A date—at last.

So I pushed aside all the dark Peacecraft worries and rang him up.

It disappointed me when he could not give me a definite yes and a time, but I didn't feel he was putting me off as a lark. He was not a tease; he did not like teases.

Seeing him at the coffee shop the following day was nice. He sat close but not too close. He touched my arm, but didn't cling. I wanted a kiss, but without privacy, the opportunity didn't arise. Still, I knew he was mine.

Duo was concentrating on his pastry. I don't know what it was, but he was…tearing at the paper wrapping. Muffin. It had to be a muffin, not that it matters. I had my sketchbook and pencil and five minutes to capture his likeness. How could I distinguish the texture gradations from his oxford cloth collar to his neck and from there along his prickly jaw line to his chin?

Pointillism. That's why the technique was developed. Dot, dot, dot, dotdotdotdot dotdotdotdot…

"Hey, what are you doing? I haven't got the pox or anything."

"Shading and texturing." That was all I needed to say. My meaning was implicit in my action, and he recognized that I knew what I was doing. His smile altered the shape of his cheek, but I wasn't there yet and it would morph back in a moment. Dotdotdotdotdotdotdotdot…

"Yeah, I guess I do have plenty of both of those. Want some?"

_Some of you?_ "Yes." We both blushed at the speed of my reply and after I had already told him I didn't like the nut topping on the banana-nut muffins. "Er, no, thank you. Turn you head, please. Like this."

I touched his chin, and when his eyes fell shut and his warm sigh misted across my knuckles, I came just _this _close to caving in and kissing him in front of all the patrons. "I like the play of light from the slatted shades, the dust motes floating--"

"Dust… _moats_? As in a ditch around a castle?" He flashed his bright blue eyes, which had the barest touch of violet in the right light, when he looked askance at me.

"Dust… particles." My voice broke, trapped by his breathtaking beauty.

"Oh, yeah. _Motes_. Cool. Um, I'll have to run out on you here in a minute. Tro's gonna be late so I'm opening alone with a visitation."

"I see. Well, I can add more later." The soft feathering of loose hair framing his face would have to come last anyway.

"Later, as in this time tomorrow. Sorry to keep putting you off like this. You gotta know I'd rather spend every waking hour with you, but this week is just one funeral after another and then I got to setup for the next day and folks are dropping right and left right now. I'm really wanting to…see you."

"I understand." _I want to release your braid and bury my face in that waterfall of hair_. "I will see you tomorrow morning." And then I watched him leave and take it all tightly channeled and constrained by its plait and flow out the door.

The week crawled by and sailed by—sometimes slowly, sometimes at the speed of light. I'd see Duo for coffee, bury myself in my artwork, as he literally buried himself with his work. When night would arrive, I would dream of loving Duo.

I completely forgot about my promise to Zechs until he materialized in full sunlight Thursday morning, or Friday.

_Will you leave if I wear a garland of garlic?_

He blinked at me in such a way that I wondered if I had said that aloud, but on second thought, decided he was simply unaccustomed to the glare from the extremely close-up star streaming through his window, so I asked, "Yes?"

"Good… morning. If _that_ isn't an oxymoron then I don't know what is. Is your offer still open?"

"If you're ready, we'll go now. You won't need the car keys. I take the Metro and walk." I enjoyed being in charge, if just this one time.

I thought he'd balk and run, but he came along without a fight. He didn't realize the Metro required coins to operate, so I loaned him the fare. I wondered how long he'd been exclusively a night player. I'd done my internet research and that's what today's vampires, ghosts, ghouls, etcetera preferred to be called—night players.

I hesitated to just fling this creature on my Duo so soon after staking, pun intended, my own claim. I was having many second thoughts. You could have taken the cubed root of the count of my thoughts and, gotten back to two. While I was coming up with the correct mathematical application, we were getting in sight of the coffee shop, and Duo was there at the door looking wide-eyed at my traveling companion.

I knew it was a bad idea. For once, I could not imagine what Duo was thinking. What did that say about me?

Greetings and introduction went around without my active participation and then we were lined up to place our orders.

"What would you like to drink? It's on me," Zechs said with a suave sweep on hair and smile.

"A soft one," Duo said and he batted his eyes and tossed his braid over his shoulder—all part of his act. "Hard ones make me weak; I save those for the weaker moments."

I laughed, recognizing the film lines that Duo was quoting.

So did Zechs, who quipped his own, "You know, if it wasn't 7:30 in the morning, I would have a drink." (Ava Gardner , EARTHQUAKE)

"I never drink...wine" ( Dracula, 1931) I said, not to be out done. Duo laughed and Zechs, well he checked his watch.

Duo and Zechs got along fine. Duo was charming and Zechs suave as hell. From hell it came.

"Volunteer? Crazy. Well, most of what we do takes training. You good with makeup? No, I can see you don't wear any. Tro's a champ anyway. You look strong enough to heave bodies-- What do you like to do?"

I think Duo was testing him.

"Drive."

"Drive cars or bargains, heh heh? Cool, maybe we can expand our pickup service. You know, go 'round and collect the deceased and transport them to the mortuary. Ya gotta be respectful and professional."

"That will be no problem."

"Well, great. Any friend of 'Ro's is a friend of mine. So, you wanna start today?"

"Now?"

_While the sun is out--, burn, bastard, burn._

"Sure, might as well, right? See, ya, 'Ro!"

(o)

Zechs Merquise was the coolest cucumber in the icebox, cooler possibly than Trowa. Trowa was laid back; Zechs was unflappable and chilly to the bone. Put them together with a dead body and me and suddenly work had gone polar. If I hadn't been hot and bothered over Heero at the time I might have been flash frozen after the introductions and obligatory tour.

"How is it you get customers? They don't walk in the door, surely." Zechs launched one of his smooth smiles and arched an eyebrow, but didn't raise his voice or exude an emotion.

"Word of mouth, rest homes, hospital, phone book, but no foot traffic, yeah, heh heh." I laughed and he smiled politely and Trowa shrugged one shoulder, slightly. "Where I was working before I started my own business, the hospital employees regularly took payment under the table for notifying us of deaths. That way Howard could get a jump on the competition and send one of his reps out to approach the family."

Trowa frowned. "That's not legal."

Zechs concurred. "And I am not aware of any cases where an allegation like that was proved."

"Wasn't in Sanc, but it's hard to do prosecute when folks are getting rich and keeping mum." I indicated my own indifference with an expressive arm and shoulder gesture. "From my own experiences, personally, the funeral home business is extraordinarily competitive. I'm aware of one case where agents of two funeral homes got into a fight in the morgue over the disposition of a body that each claimed. It got very ugly."

Trowa snorted. "Shit. I'll bet."

"Point is-- way back when I had a point to make-- I want to go over how I conduct a "pickup" so any of us can go out and get a cadaver and do it in a professional manner."

"Gotcha, boss."

Zechs smiled. "I'm listening."

And so was the monkey about to mess up the works, if you get my meaning. If not, well, things were about to go out of kilter.

"So, in the hearse out back, there's a multilevel adjustable cot. I'll show you how it works. There's also a head rest with a couple spare sheets. What else, oh, yeah, blank death certificates. See me about those. Can't let important documents like that fall into the wrong hands," I explained. "They come to us numbered and have to be carefully accounted for. And lastly, the ICKD, or the Infectious Case Kit and Disaster pouch. That's in the van in a box with gloves, masks, plastic body bag, among other things. I'd recommend the gloves most of the time. Bodies...secrete the nastiest stuff."

I noticed Trowa shudder slightly at some bad memory. He must have had quite a few at the hospital. "Go on."

Zechs didn't blink a steely-blue eye.

"The three places from which a funeral home is usually asked to remove a diseased human body is: 1.Hospital or nursing home; 2. Residence of deceased; and 3. Coroner's office."

The phone rang and I, who was nearest, answered, "Maxwell Mortuary services. Can I help you? Chang? What a lovely surprise! It isn't? Oh. Hold on while I put you in touch with our recovery assistant who will be on the scene directly."

I handed over the phone to my volunteer, wary-eyed assistant with the _adviso_,

"Get good directions and any recommendations for special equipment from my buddy Detective Chang."

"Certainly. Hello, detective, where is the, ahem, body? Oh, yes, I have been there. I'm pleased to make your acquaintance. Good evening to you, too." He strode across the room and hung up the phone. "Have you ever been to the Voyate laboratories at this location?"

I took the scribbled note and read it. "Jeez, Special Ops division? No."

Zechs extracted the keys from my grasp and pushed me towards the door. "Get along then. It will take us half an hour just to get there. And it's a two-man job, he told me."

"Enjoy yourselves," Trowa said.

I could swear he wanted to go, so I invited him.

"I'd rather stay here and finish the embalming I just started on the slab, frankly."

Zechs was staring out the half open door then at me expectantly.

"You hired him. He's all yours." Trowa's voice had gone flat as day old beer.

So, he didn't like Zechs and didn't like having him to work with. Great. I'd just messed with my best employee's happiness. I lowered my voice. "If he doesn't work out, he's history."

"And if I just don't like him?"

"Ancienter history."

His smile went crooked. "You're the boss."

"Right. Keep reminding me. Be back in a couple hours, no longer."

And that's why I was speeding out of the city in a funeral van with Zechs Merquise behind the wheel.

"Okay, you need to know a few things. Residence removals are a delicate matter, which is why I usually get them delivered to me, plus the time element. If there are any suspicious circumstances about the deceased, it must be reported, like blood dripping from a hole, pills all around the body--,"

"I don't believe that will be a problem tonight. The body is in a tank of water and it's been there...awhile. Police investigators are already on the scene."

"Oh, jeez… Well...that's good. We have to report any questionable cases we get to the coroner first, here in Sanc. Seeing as Chang called us on it, it's not a problem. If in doubt, get a release from the coroner. It's his responsibility to determine if the removal is legal, and we don't want to get me into trouble, right?"

"Right."

I had to help this man defrost a little. Lord of Sanc or not, he was gonna drive himself into an early grave containing all his feelings that way. "Right, so, did you know that, on average, right-handed people live 9 years longer than their left-handed counterparts?"

Zechs smiled at my rapid change of subject. "No, but I bet Heero told you that."

After a short pause of silence, I asked, "Howdidya know that?"

"He's right-handed." He chuckled at my 'that's a lame joke' expression. "I just guessed."

"Hn." If Heero and Trowa could grunt their ways out of a conversation, I sure as hell could, too.

"Shouldn't there be a shorter word for 'monosyllabic'?" Zechs asked.

I was the king of smart comebacks. "Oh, but there is--'jock'!"

We both laughed at that one.

"Okay, I got one for you." If Zechs thought he could keep up with me tonight and drive at the same time, so be it.

"I'm ready," he said.

"Why is the word 'abbreviate' so long?"

"I don't know, but it was probably made up by the same guy who did the other joke, don't you think?"

He wasn't bad at this repartee stuff either, I had to admit. "Yeah, heh heh."

I watched a smirky kind of smile flicker over his face and then it was gone. There were no streetlights or other cars on the road and he was staring hard, looking for the turnoff.

"There it is." Zechs nodded as we passed a sign for Voyate Laboratories.

"Isn't it a bit unnerving that doctors call what they do 'practice'?" I asked this more to break up the silence than anything else. I wasn't trying for a joke-off competition or anything.

"No, now keep a look out for the loading area."

Zechs wheeled the van into the back parking area, past the security gate and then backed up to a loading dock where a tall, sandy-haired man with an ear-to-ear smile waved us in.

I opened the back of the van and hopped in.

Zechs followed with his more stately gait and watched as I demonstrated how to remove the attachments holding the cot in place. "I'll carry the accessory bag," I told him as I stepped out onto the dock.

"You want me to roll out the cot?" he asked.

"Yeah, knock yourself out," I said.

"It is lightweight and easily maneuverable," he told me. "Good quality."

"Yeah, I do my best." Since the smiling cop was hovering between the two of us, I figured he wanted to meet us. "Hi! We're from Maxwell's Mortuary and we are here to remove a body. Want identification?"

"That won't be necessary. Detective Chang called to say you were coming. This way." The smiley cop, smiled wider and at Zechs pretty much exclusively.

S'allright. I had myself a boyfriend, even if I'd blown him off all week except for coffee hellos. God, Heero. Man, he must feel like I've blown him off and he went so far as to introduce me to the Sanc elite—and get him to do volunteer work for me! Shit, if Heero still wanted to see me on Sunday, I'd be one lucky man. Lucky for sure. Now, I did not want to go down Doubtful Street. Been there and it's a dead end. So, I reinforced my ego with the memory of his touch a couple days ago. Oh, yeah, we were cool. He was cool with how busy I was. He was just plain fucking cool. My Heero.

Up ahead was a giant tank and a short cop with a shiny black helmet of hair. How did he keep it so perfect? Every hair in place. I wanted to muss it up just for the hell of it, but I kept my hands to myself.

It was summer and the weather warm. I could smell death from the sidelines.

"How do you want to go about this?" Zechs' face appeared unwell in the faintly illuminated light glowing through the murky water, but I suppose mine looked the same. We stood looking down into a saltwater tank where a partly skeletonized and badly decomposed body was floating near the water intake for the filter.

"What's this reservoir used for?" Zechs asked helmet head with a sound kick to the metal corner of the enclosure.

The smiley investigator shimmed closer to him and leaned in. "We were told that it's a tank of leftover sea water used in experimentation and then stored. It gets used for firefighting, when needed. Sorry you have to go after… that."

The cop was flirting! And not with me! Zechs, however, seemed oblivious and remained professional. "The man drowned? He must have been in here a long time," he told me.

"We'll see," was all I said and passed Zechs a pair of gloves. "This will get messy. Unpack a plastic cover and body bag, unzip it, and spread it on the cot. If we're careful and with a lot of luck, we'll get the plastic sheet under it and haul it out that way. Then we'll bag it for safe keeping. Watch your feet. And don't fall in."

"Thank you." Zechs wrinkled his nose. The smell of rot was striking when we stirred up the water. "As if I were thinking about taking a swim."

In the end, it took both officers to hold the bag open, while we heave, hoed, and wrestled about the corpse, but we managed to pack the body into the bag without going for that swim, so I called it a success.

"Look at this." I pointed to the body before Zechs and smilely-cop could zip'er up.

"Live fly larvae."

"Happens a lot," the short dark helmet said with a bored shrug.

"They don't hatch in salt water, even I know that," Zechs spat.

_Good for you! You tell the coppers how to do their jobs._ Zechs was no dummy, blonde hair aside.

"We'll do a thorough examination back at the morgue," I assured both investigators, who looked shaken and kept checking out the bugs until Zechs closed the bag. "If we find that these larvae prove that the body has been in the tank for only a short time, we'll let you know, because then you'll know that the death happened someplace else and the body was moved and dumped in here more recently."

"Can you give us a time of death with that, then?" asked helmet head.

"Yes," I said watching as Zechs cracked the code to the belting system and secured the bag in place on the cot.

Zechs pushed and I guided the rolling cart to the van, after Zechs discovered that it was much more difficult than he thought to steer it loaded. I showed him how to move the cot into the back of the van. "Feet first is how I like it. That's right, and then lock it down."

Once inside the van, the smiley investigator leaned into the driver's window. "I didn't know you were in the pick-up business."

"Or the police," Zechs said smoothly. "Today was a special service for Detective Chang." He sighed and looked at me. "Can we leave now?"

Honestly, his enthusiasm was completely unwarranted.

I hadn't missed how the one in charge had given him an especially meaningful smile, and apparently Zechs hadn't either. Too bad for that dude. I found the tall blond attractive, but I could tell that Zechs wasn't in the market.

"A few more reminders," I began when we were underway.

"Don't tell me, I'm already on it." Zechs cranked up the air conditioner and opened the rear windows.

"Right. Ventilation."

"Indeed."

"And we really shouldn't stop at the Seven-Eleven until this part of the job is over; people are very curious. Hearses never look good at McDonalds either."

"I see your point." Zechs concentrated on the road and drove the rest the way without complaint.

On our arrival at the funeral home, I showed him where to park and how to unload the body so we'd be blocking the view from anyone passing by.

"This all seems so secretive-- hiding our movements from the public eye, slipping in the back door..."

"Often it is. Most people don't want to see what's going on, or at least they don't want others to see what's going on. And they certainly don't want to think that we are so sloppy that someday strangers will see what's happening to them!"

"No, that would be indiscreet," he agreed.

"Okay, so usually you'd take the paperwork to the office for processing."

"What paperwork?"

"Body release papers, but we'll do that next time when we have a more usual case. I handle it all anyway so I'll take care of it later. That means it's time to roll him in through the back door. Then move the deceased to an embalming table or onto a gurney to be stored in the cooler. Don't leave the body on the cot unless I say to do so, because the cot needs to be cleaned and prepared for the next pick up, which can come at any time, or all at once."

"I understand. So, which will it be? Cooler or table?"

I wondered if there was anything that could shake him up and decided that I didn't want to meet up with whatever that might be. Both he and Trowa had that in common.

"Put it on the embalming table. Level the table first then place the head at the end away from the drain. I'll give you a hand getting the body out of that bag. Watch the fluids! Ah, shit..."

Trowa went to get the paper towel roll.

"Thanks, Tro'"

"No problem. You both stink."

"This job stinks, at times. Zechs, you wanna help with this or just watch?"

I received an arched eyebrow in answer.

"Completely undress the body, Tro', what little is left on it."

"Yeah."

And suddenly, there was Zechs towering over me. The man is well over six feet tall and I am not. He loomed, trapped my eyes in his icy-grey blue one, and asked, "Are you collecting the larvae?"

"Ah, yeah, but inna minute, okay? First, we gotta get the body set up. Now, if this were in better condition you would make sure the head's supported with a head block. Again, it hardly matters with this...case. Prevents a purge."

"That's a nasty mess caused by gas build-up, pushing food and all through the mouth," Trowa clarified with more gusto than appropriate.

Zechs made a face. "I know. I have seen decomposing bodies as a war combatant."

"Okay, there's none on this yet, but if there is a toe tag, leave it there. Never remove ID tags. They don't belong in some desk unless you are going to look for new work soon! Same for wrist identification from the hospital: if there is any, leave it on."

Trowa pulled out a blank tag and the chart. "I'll just enter the name 'John Doe' on the computer and record the ID number on the tag—"

I mopped up a bit and turned up the fan. Trowa was jotting notes. "Have you put the bugs on the chart?" I asked.

"I recorded the presence of larvae on the corpse," Trowa answered in the most formal manner I'd ever heard him utter. "And as soon as we get a count, I'll put that number on the chart, yes."

Zechs was put in charge of collecting and counting. He gingerly used tweezers to removes dozens one-by-one. "All right. That is all I see now. The 'bugs' are currently residing on this dish."

Trowa emptied the larvae into a plastic box on my desk. "And now they are resting comfortably in the incubator." Trowa said as he smirked over at me.

What did _I_ do?

Trowa returned and attached the toe tag. He picked up the accumulated garbage and plastic bags, made sure that they were sealed, then said, "This stuff becomes nastier as time goes on. Can we agree that this goes in the incinerator?"

"Yeah, let it burn in hell. Hey, Zechs, would you clean the cot mattress and the reusable body bag with a sponge and antiseptic soap." I showed him where to find supplies. "And use a little spray of antiseptic to finish it off. Don't forget to put another sheet with the cot for the next use; in fact, replace anything you used, like gloves, okay?"

"All right," he agreed. "I'll put everything back where it belongs."

"And when you are done with all that, wash your hands with antiseptic soap!" I shouted over the roar of water at the sink.

"You are becoming a slave driver."

Trowa performed most of the autopsy, with me watching. I stepped in a couple times to offer an opinion, but let Trowa carry the brunt of the load.

Trowa was a clever, smart guy who was quick to learn, exacting, neat, and detail-oriented. I liked him. If I'd never met Heero, I'da liked him that way, too.

"You can tell by the size of the wound on the skull here that he was shot at close range in the back of the head."

Zechs and I looked over his shoulder.

"Execution style," Zechs commented.

Trowa nodded. "Probably. No other signs of major trauma. No knife damage to bones, scrapes or anything. The skin is pretty far gone, but I see no signs of rope burns."

Zechs moved off to pick away at his larvae find.

Trowa was first to spot the glint of gold as the mesh trap in the sink caught larger debris as he 'ran the gut'. "I might have found a clue to the man's identity!"

He dug around until the gold chain and medallion were freed, and then he washed them.

"Whatcha got for me?" I asked.

"I found something the guy swallowed. You won't believe this. It's funny, I think I remember this jewelry from someplace."

"Well, keep thinking. If you get a lead, we can follow up on it with dental records. We can run his head through the x-ray, if necessary."

"Yeah, I guess I could do that, but it's been a long time since I did tech work on that machine. We might be able to get away with a dental impression and let you tackle the comparisons. The police will want to double check it all anyway with an outside source."

"I could do that, sure," I agreed. "But keeping thinking."

But Trowa couldn't remember where he had seen the chain before. And I understood, then, the effort it took him at times not to scream with the frustration of his memory loss. He had revealed his problem to me on the day I hired him. Everything that had happened around the time of some accident was a blank now, including the accident. He'd suffered lots of trauma in his lifetime and memory loss seemed to be the way his mind and body dealt with it.

I was, as he had put it, getting a man with an unknown past. I had told him he was working for a man with a past better-left unknown, and we had shared a laugh or two. It hadn't been particularly funny, but it beat crying.

The more he concentrated the more certain he was that the necklace had something to do with that time, but the concrete memory eluded him.

"Come help me here," I called. I pointed him over to my desk.

Trowa folded the chain in a towel and set it near me. He knew I was trying to distract him. "I'll need an 'effects' box for this."

"Check the cabinet over there. Way back. And if we're low…"

"Put it on the 'to buy' list, got it."

Zechs was examining the fly larvae, and attempting to ignore us. "When you are finished with your assignment, I wonder if you wouldn't look over what I've discovered."

He had no trouble getting Trowa involved comparing his findings to the on-line insect database. "Are we in agreement, then, that the live fly larvae collected from the body and pants absolutely could not have survived in salt water, thus proving that the body had been in the tank for only a short time. Obviously, then, the death happened at another site and the body was moved."

"Yeah," Trowa drawled. I didn't think he was ready to like the frosty blond, but he was willing to work alongside him.

"Good, then based upon examination of the larvae, I estimate that the death occurred some seven to ten days earlier, the average incubation time for the most probable varieties of fly. We will know for sure when these mature into actual flying creatures and we get an absolute ID on them. Do you concur?"

Trowa referred to the calendar above my desk and ticked off the days. "Yeah. At this stage we can't discount five or six possibilities, but they all take about the same length of time to hatch from eggs." He riveted his one visible green-hued eye on Merquise. "Where did you learn to do that?"

"I've been a career military man, but I first graduated from college. Entomology."

And there was born a new camaraderie amongst the bugs. Science majors and nerds at heart, both of them. Before they could begin comparing grueling chemistry classes and nasty exams, I knew I had to put the kibosh on the chatter.

"Nice job, but we gotta get it in gear. So, roll on back over, and close up the body. We have another work order to do tonight awaiting embalming in the Keep."

Trowa froze in place and turned toward me slowly. "In gear...gear...That word...like a name..."

"Kildear was here?" Zechs piped up from my desk.

"Kildear...no, but like that. Someone... at Voyate Pharmaceuticals with a name like that. I can't remember, more." Trowa looked away and then back. "Duo knows, so I guess I should tell you, too," He said over his shoulder to Zechs. "I was in an accident and suffered like total memory loss. It's come back, some, not the accident and my childhood is nixed."

He dove back to the keyboard. "Give me a minute here." He entered the personnel database of the company through the company's website and using the passwords he recalled from his mysterious and mostly forgotten past.

"What are you...whoa...?" I was impressed at the speed at which Trowa could break into the company records.

Zechs suddenly appeared, hovering over us. "Deerheart?"

Trowa shook his head. "I saw that name too but it's not quite..."

"Dilbert?" I suggested. "Isn't he in a comic strip?"

"That's it! Dekim, right below that. Dekim Barton. That name ...this chain and that name."

"Your name's Barton, too," I pointed out. "Possible relation?"

"No idea." Trowa shrugged and continued scrolling through the personnel file on 'Dekim Barton'. "Looks like he's on an extended vacation," he pointed out.

"You think this body could be him? The dead guy?" I asked.

"Possibly, or Dekim killed this guy, who swallowed his chain as a clue. I don't know. I can't even picture him or recall why he's important yet, but I will. It's in my head I just need to get it out."

"Here's the picture on record. Does that help?" Zechs asked, hopefully.

"No."

"We need a hypnotist, and I know just the person!"

"Not…Quatre."

He may have sounded disinterested, but I knew better. "Super qualified. I'll call him now and..."

"Put the phone down," Trowa ordered. "We are going to finish the job, fill out the forms, call Chang, and pass on our findings. Then we'll do what's next on the list and go home. I want to shower, go to sleep, and enjoy my weekend. I'll call Quatre later in the morning when it won't terrify him."

"Oh, yeah," I smiled with a blush. "I forget what time it is for the rest of the world."

To speed things up, Trowa closed the body that may have belonged to Dekim, while I took the upper and lower jaw impressions. When Trowa cleaned up, Zechs offered to wash the tools and sanitize everything for the next body. That left me to fill out forms.

"Wanna see the "Keep?" Trowa asked Zechs. "Full of dead bodies."

Zechs practically flew at the chance. "Yes." Odd duck, that one.

So, Trowa covered the body with a plastic coated sheet, rolled it into the cadaver keep, where I imagine he manhandled it into a locker.

Meanwhile, I logged into the funeral services website and requested dental records for Dekim.

Trowa and Zechs rolled in the next cadaver. Zechs easily moved the small body onto the embalming table as Trowa set out the cleaned tools.

When Trowa pulled away the sheet, Zechs looked away from the exposed cadaver with a blush rising from his neck. "I-I don't think I can...do this."

"It's easier to deal with the older ones," Trowa told him with, could it be, a note of sympathy?

"I suppose."

"No autopsy is required; that was already done at the hospital where she died. Botched abortion, says here. Sometimes it was hard to be strictly clinical, but you get the hang of it with time. So, first, I wash it down with antibacterial—"

I pulled out Chang's card and placed a call. "Duo from Maxwell's Mortuary...yeah, howdy do to you too. Here's the scoop, although we're still waiting on confirmation via dental records—hold on. Hey, gotta go. I'll call you back. Bye."

I heard the clatter of a scalpel and watched it skittle along the floor out of the corner of my eyes, and then heard the shout.

"Zechs! Trowa grabbed the other man's shaking arm, and forced him to back away from the cadaver.

I was a little afraid Zechs was going to crack and run out of the building and more afraid Trowa was going to knock him senseless.

"Hey, dude," Trowa said, surprising me again with the gentleness in his voice. "It's not a person any more. No feelings. What's important are those of the people going to look one more time at her and say good bye. See?"

Trowa impressed me with his maturity and skill at putting the newcomer at ease and turning his attention off the girl's nakedness and onto the job to be done.

Zechs nodded, but I could tell he didn't 'see.' "But, you can't cut her," he said, his eyes loaded with haunted pain. "You can't damage her...cut her...scar her... I know her, knew her!"

"What's her name?" Trowa asked.

"Mariemaia Barton-Khushrenada. And if that other…body… was Dekim Barton, then this was his granddaughter."

"Leia's daughter," Trowa said with his voice husky.

"Who's Leia?" I asked. "Who's Dekim Barton? Who are any of these people and why are they here?"

I was totally ignored.

Trowa shook his head. "I don't even know why I said what I did or how I knew what I did. This is so frustrating and I have a job to get done here!"

"Don't you think it's strange that in one night two bodies, from unrelated sources, come in here and both of you are connected-- Trowa, you in particular?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Okay, then it's not just me. Zechs, if this is gonna be too hard for you, I understand. Go home. Trowa, I'll do the embalming and you can talk to Chang, okay?"

"I'm okay, thanks, Duo."

Zechs glided over to the table. "I don't know what to say. I should at least lend a hand."

So I gave it my best shot. "Well just think about what we do here and it helps. Really do here, I mean. We have to make her look peaceful again for them, her family and friends. Okay? Like Tro' here said, we do it for them. This is just a...like a doll. And we fix it up, make it look good. And to do that we have to do our job. Stop the decomposition going on inside. Right? Okay then, to do that we have to open the body and clean it out, re-pack it, sanitize it, replace the blood with embalming fluid, and close it up. We'll will pretty her up and dress her in the morning, but tonight, we have to get her ready. Got that? See how important a job it is we do? We only have a few hours before the gases build up and degradation of the tissues begin, so...what do you say? You ready to help her family out?"

Zechs stood stock-still and listened. He wordlessly returned to the body and watched as Trowa tucked into the task before him.

I got Chang back on the phone and kept my eye on the proceedings at the same time. "Hello? Yeah, great night, Chang. Whaddya know? The wonders of the modern world… I got the dental records and the impressions."

Zechs seemed calm as Trowa prepared for the aspiration.

"Listen, I took the impressions. Okay, the crown-work lines up as does the fixed retainer attached to inner lower teeth. I'd say it's a match, but you could order new x-rays. We'll put the chain in an evidence bag. Didn't tell you about that? Well we found it in the gut. Body's locked up now. I'm sure it'll be secure. Okay, if you like, I'll keep the key on me. No problem. We're working on a time of death, but we may have an ID. Yeah, we are good. What's more… yeah, there's more. We gotta body form the hospital, ah, EM, with the wrong ID. Pretty damned sure. And, get, this, you'll love it—the two bodies are related. No, not yet. Hold on. Hey, Tro'? stop the presses. 'Fei-man wants us to do another autopsy on the girl. He's ordering her 'parts' to be delivered here by secured vehicle. Names? Dekim Barton and his granddaughter, Mariemaia Barton-Khushrenada. Yeah, full service providers. That's us. What's that? Oh, okay. Bye."

I hung up the receiver. "We could be in danger, gang."

Trowa looked up from his work. "I think I'll give Quatre a call and check out that hypnotist act of his. We need to get some clues to what happened to me."

"Let's give our patient here our best, lock her up, and then go home."

"Exciting place you have here, Maxwell."

"Glad you like it. Welcome aboard, Merquise."

"Thank you. I feel enormously taken with the job and will return as often as possible, but the hours… well, I'll do my best to greet the morning with an open eye. However, this case is particularly interesting to me and, since I know Mr. Winner-- he's been introduced-- and now you too, I would like to avail you of my services. Let's have your séance at my place."

"The palace?" Trowa asked, in awe I might add.

And all I could think of was "Heero will be there," and said emphatically "YES!"

* * *

End Chapter 7, Fireworks, part one

**TBC in Chapter 8, Fireworks, part two**


	9. Fireworks, part 2

**Greeting Cards**

This is an on-going story arc, based on Heero's greeting cards, and updated monthly, _at least_.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

**Warnings: AU, male/male pairings, language, **some embalming and autopsies topics covered

**Chapter 9 --**

**Fireworks (in July) part 2**

* * *

Zechs stood adjusting jacket and his platinum fall of hair in two crisp gestures. He had refined decadence down great; at least, in the palace. He seemed more down to earth in the morgue. I wondered if he was putting on a show for Heero, or Quatre.

It certainly wasn't for me. We were way past that at work. I wasn't in awe of the privileged and influential. I'd handled the bodies of the rich and famous right along with the poor and forgotten. I'd had a famous musician for a lover, and buried him without tear, from the standpoint of the public. In private, well that was another matter I wasn't going to think about now. The point was that I was damned hard to impress that way, and after hefting copses about together Zechs knew it.

"I'll get the door. Excuse me a moment."

He told us that he had released the staff for the night. For this. For Heero and me to have a séance. I hoped that was the star of the show at the door.

Quatre, our soon-to-be performance-artist hypnotist, had already arrived a few minutes earlier and just been informed, by me, that it wasn't a political discussion party, as I had said it was to lure him here, but something far more exciting.

My newly consecrated ex-boyfriend and now just-a-friend fixed his boyish blues on me. With his hands firmly seated on his hips, he could do stern with superb elegance. "Duo, I am not a hypnotist. Hello, Heero, I'm glad to see you again. I hope _you_ can help talk some sense into him."

"Not likely," I said before Heero could get involved and complicate things. As adorable as my new boyfriend was, he sometimes said the darnedest things. "Quat, man, maybe it's the hypnotist label. Toss the label; I don't like them myself. But… you did something magical to get me to see… like you read my mind and my feelings and made me see where my heart was heading. I know you have a gift. Do not, I repeat, do not deny it."

He huffed and he puffed, but I could tell he was caving. Sometimes I was simply irresistible— no, make that inarguable. My charms didn't extend that far.

"I came here because you said Zechs wanted to talk local politics, and, well, no one ignores a summons to the Peacecraft estate. But –"

Zechs returned with Trowa in his wake and Quatre's eyes grew plate-sized as his mighty little trap slammed shut. Thank, God. He could yap like a lap dog freebasing with Crystal meth and Dexedrine on the side. No, that was my next-door neighbor, but it was close.

Still, the effect Trowa's laidback entrance had on Quat was totally cool. When he spoke, the supernatural happened and Quatre wrapped himself around the green-eyed man's little finger, so to speak. I could have gone further and said that Quatre was willing to wrap himself around Trowa's dick, and not been much ahead of the game.

"Hey, so are you going to read my mind? Extract my secret past? Pretty chill."

"I'll try. You want me to? Really?"

_No, Quat, he wants to get you naked, but if this is what he's got to go through to get there, he's game._

"Yeah. I have some big holes in my memory I need to fill."

_I don't even need to tell you what he was really thinking about filling, do I? Thought not._

"I-I'll do my best."

_Sure you will. Too pure for Duo, but you'll spread'em for Tro'_.

I know, I _know_ Quat doesn't read minds exactly, but at that moment I coulda sworn that he read mine. He turned and looked straight into my eyes.

"Duo?"

"Er… go ahead, Quat. You do whatcha haveta." I meant that, too. The sooner my employee and bud, Tro', got into and outta his infatuation with the guy the better, right?

Pretty, blond guy smiled at me, briefly, and then returned his attention fully onto Trowa. "I think you should sit where you are comfortable." Quatre sounded so sincere, the manipulative little prick tease, and I meant that in the nicest way. Actually, it felt better watching him apply his skills to someone else than being the focal point myself.

Yes, I still had a few issues with my buddy, Quat, but they weren't as serious as I made it sound. I was a little bitter and hurt that Trowa had what I hadn't. Nothing like losing your sex appeal when you oughta be at your peak performance.

Lucky for me, since he kissed me that first time in the car, I think Heero and I made our own special psychic link. It fired up at this time, and he was at my side with a hand on my shoulder before I could get any glummer. His breathy whisper shocked me to the core.

"Would you like to see my room?"

_Would I Would I Would I Would I? _My lust smoldering just under the surface all this time nearly erupted into a fireball. Before I could scream something stupidly embarrassing, my brain kicked me in the balls and dashed ice water reminders on my head. He just might possibly mean "…and see my art work."

So, what I blathered was, "Where you…draw?" because you never know, _and sleep.. and undress..._

.

"That, too, if you want."

Okay, now I had an aching erection to contend with; that was my problem now. The hottest dude in the room of fireworks had just propositioned me, and in a moment it could all explode. "Yep," I peeped.

"Good."

Heero moved away an inch and sporting a sly smile just as Quatre leaned over Trowa, who was seated in an expensive looking armchair. "Just relax and look into my eyes."

I don't think that smile had anything to do with the tight fit of Quat's khakis over his perky little ass either. It was for me, just me. That was another big turn on.

Trowa tensed more than ever. His knuckles had gone white. He hid behind that wall of hair for as long as he could, and then Quatre swept it aside. Trowa looked up with both eyes and… then he was sunk. Their eyes locked and Quatre's sweet lips opened.

"That's the way! Now, open your mind and let it rove at will."

Heero grumbled under his breath, and then said aloud, "Can you do this with an audience? Because here comes Relena."

Relena waltzed into the room from who-knows-where— shopping? She had bags that she dropped in a chair. Her eyes swept the room landing on Zechs then me and then Heero. It was to him that she glided.

"Oh!" From the rising blush on Heero's neck, I don't think he had expected Relena to come up to him and kiss him in greeting. "Hello."

"A roomful of the best looking men in all Sanc? What's going on?" she asked.

Zechs handled the introductions and explanations. "Quatre Winner, whom you've met, is about to demonstrate hypnotism on Trowa Barton, whom you may have seen at the hospital, but is now working at Maxwell's Mortuary. Beside Heero is Duo Maxwell of the mortuary fame. Yesterday, I had the pleasure of making his acquaintance over a few dead bodies. My volunteer work, if you recall?"

"Oh, that. Yes. Duo Maxwell. I first saw you at the hospital's Valentine's Day dance."

I shook her hand, making contact, which was automatic in my line of work. "I was one in the crowd there. I'm honored you would have remembered me. A beautiful woman like you, on the other hand, is impossible to forget."

I might have slathered on the charm a bit too heavy, but she licked it up and laughed over it. "Flatterer. And every girl in the place was talking about the handsome young man with the very, very long braid and the girl you were with."

_Girl?_ She must have meant Hilde, I decided. "Hilde? Yeah, she's dating a police detective now. She's my old chum from the L2 neighborhood."

I wanted to get that impending visit alone with Heero before I'd have to leave, and I didn't want to get into who-was-with-whom with Relena Peacecraft. "Anyway… we don't have much time and we oughta get on with this."

She apologized for interrupting and with some prompting, Quatre established skin-to-skin contact using his hands on Trowa's bare arms.

"Now try and relax. Think about…floating in the clouds…"

It was July and warm even inside the thick palace walls. The gooseflesh rose on Trowa's arms, but the memories did not.

"Nothing. Sorry," Trowa muttered, but his eyes never left Quat's.

"I got my breakthrough a little differently," I explained. I didn't want him to give up. "It might take more… meaningful… contact to do that mind-meld thing you did with me, Quat."

Quatre's cross little face turned my way. "With everyone watching us?"

"Why don't you go to Trowa's apartment and revive his past in privacy?" Heero suggested. "Or stay here and put on a show for Relena and Zechs."

"What about you?" Quatre asked Heero, but he shifted his attention to me.

"You can tell Duo all about your findings," Heero said, nudging me in the direction of the staircase, "some other time."

It might have been rather sudden and seemed a bit rude, but that "come hither" look in his eyes drove off all thoughts of propriety. "Yeah, lemme know, ah…see you at the shop tomorrow, 'Tro."

Heero led the way and I followed him up the grand staircase. I could no better tell you what it looked like than Quatre's dorm room, into which, in fact, I had never been invited; my eyes were on the tight ass ascending.

I could make out Trowa's voice and I think he and Quatre were leaving, but I was at the top of the stairs when Heero's warm hand clasped mine and pulled me further and further away from the fray below.

"This is my room," he said, pushing open the door. "My studio is further on." He made no motion in that direction, so I took the hint.

Oh, man. There was the biggest fucking bed dead center in the room. Four-poster with curtains open at the side where I was looking. Sure, there was a giant wardrobe of dark wood, old and carved, and night tables with matching lamps on either side of the bed, but what held my attention was that humongous bed with the lofty mattress and satin wine-red duvet. It made what I slept on look like a military cot, or the cheap mattress on the floor that it was.

"Over_blown_, huh?" Heero asked.

_Blown, oh man…nothing but sex, nothing… _"You sleep on that?" I didn't even know which word to emphasize, so it came out in a rising squeal.

Heero closed the door and walked directly up to me and the next thing I was aware of was his mouth on mine and his arms like steel bands holding me in place. As if I was going any place else!

Quatre could kiss like no one else. His lips were soft and searching and deep and-- forget it.

Kissing Heero was a full body experience. His body ground into mine; his fingers massaged; his palms pressed. He knew exactly how to tilt his head so I could breathe. He let me breathe. He had to keep me alive although I was nearly motionless and my mind was spinning.

And then he eased up and supported me so I didn't collapse with his hands on my hips. His dark blue eyes bored into mine and the slightest smile teased at the corners of his mouth. I raked his bangs aside and they flopped back into place. His hair was heavy and coarse-textured, stubborn and sexy as hell.

Then his fingers tugged on the button to my pants. "Can I suck you off?"

Had that husky voice ordered me to jump out the window, I would have without a complaint. "Ah," was all I could say, but I got a nod in there somewhere.

My boyfriend was gonna give me a blowjob and I hadn't had to beg or charm my way into it. He actually wanted me and wanted to do this for me! Then I had my pants and shorts at my ankles and Heero was on his knees, rubbing my dick on his face, cradling my balls, and I might have screamed.

"Beautiful," he said, mixing a growl and a chuckle in a low rumble. After that Heero was quiet, his mouth full of me. And he knew his way around a blowjob.

A soft, wet muscle teased at first, and then a tight ring of firmness gripped, and I could see his lips enclose the tip of my cock. "Christ, 'Ro!" I reached out for support and caught a bedpost in one hand and a fistful of his hair with the other.

I'd have bruises on the hip where he held me in place. My balls tightened and I knew I wouldn't last another second, but then he had his fingers wrapped around the base of my sac and he yanked down on them, shutting off the supply of come.

"Ohh," I groaned as the pain passed, because he swallowed my dick at the same time, which completely overwhelmed my other thinking processes. I was shouting all kinds of foul shit and he was fucking amazing.

And then he stopped.

"Don't!" I choked out with a gasp, throttling the rest of my words.

I stared down and he stared up. He started to laugh, just a couple of barks. "I've never heard that kind of language from you. Everything all right?"

His lips glistened and my cock jumped. "Yes!" I cried. Tears ran for sure. I desperately wanted him to keep going.

"Good. I wasn't done." He smiled and without another word jammed my dick down his throat again.

I don't know how I managed to keep standing, especially when his hands slid over to knead my bare ass. "Fuck!" I came so hard stars danced in constellations before my eyes. I pounded his face and he took it all. Man, was he gonna have a sore throat! I tried to pull off but he held on until I was spent.

I loved him, but I didn't say so. That would be bad. How could I be in love so shortly after breaking up with my boyfriend of four months? I wasn't a freaking slut either. I felt _love_! I knew the feeling because I'd been in love and in lust and I knew the difference.

Maybe. At the time, to be honest, what I was feeling was a little bit of both, but who could blame me? I felt him sucking on my hip, biting, marking me, and then we were kissing madly on his bed. I swear I have no memory getting there. I know at some point I was trying to strip him until he pried my fingers from buttons and pinned my hands over my head.

"Next time."

"Huh?"

"You have work in the morning, don't you?" he asked.

"What the hell does that matter?"

He kissed my pouty lips. "It _does_ and you _do_. So that means you have to leave now while you can."

"I can? I don't want to!" He was being really considerate and really annoying at the same time. I was being a pill.

He smiled. "I take that as a compliment."

"Take it anyway you want." I sounded as petulant as I felt, I'm sure.

He lay beside me and drew swirls on my exposed thighs. This didn't help smooth my ruffled feathers, but his eyes had this intensity. He could cram more force of will into that stare than anyone I'd ever known. I calmed down under his scrutiny. Of course, he was right. Tomorrow was another busy, busy day that started very, very early.

"The next day after tomorrow is a holiday and you will close up shop." In case I'd forgotten he added, "Colony Independence day. We're both from the colonies so we can celebrate together. I have the day planned."

"You do?" Man, I loved him when he was all self-confident.

I realized that I was half-dressed and he was fully dressed. For me to take advantage of that would not be difficult. First, though, I had to squirm into a better position.

"That's…ah…all right with you? You didn't have something else going o—"

There he was being all masterful, and now he starts backpedaling to check if it's allowed. God, he was sweet! I silenced him with a kiss. This I achieved by clasping my legs around his midsection and squeezing, bringing his face to mine. Unfortunately, it brought his zipper into contact with the family jewels so I had to roll him off.

"You don't have a car, do you?"

He shook he head back and forth as he got up and retrieved my underwear and pants. "I don't drive in Sanc."

"No kidding? Okay, I'll pick you up?"

"Call first and if I don't hear from you by 11:00, I'll call you."

"All day, huh?" I dressed with a smile and noticed he couldn't take his eyes off me while I did. I decided to take my own chance. "How about we end it at my place?"

"How will I get home?"

"You won't." I grinned and jumped in for a kiss.

And then he walked me out the door all the way to my bus stop. He waved with his eyes and mouthed "later."

(o)

I did get up and go to the mortuary the next day. I worked mostly at the funeral home, greeting and reassuring the family of the deceased. I wrote an obituary and phoned it into the newspaper. As the funeral director, I'm very obliging and usually can help with this task. I placed orders, rescheduled, and did my many jobs. I know I did all these things because at the end of the day Trowa told me it was over and then stood there staring at me through his fall of caramel bangs a few moments before saying, "Wanna know how it turned out?"

"How what--? Oh, yeah, how's the memory?"

"Jogged." He cracked a smile. "Nothing about that gold chain or anything about the accident, but a few childhood memories came back."

"Oh? Well, then that's good, right? You're gonna try again?"

"Yes. Tonight. And most of tomorrow. You are going to the festival, aren't you? You're a colony guy."

"Yeah, but I'm not sure what I'm doing. 'Ro, said he has plans for us all day."

Trowa hung up his lab jacket and leaned against the closet door. "Heero. So you guys are getting along okay?"

"Yeah. He's my, ah, boyfriend now."

"Thought so. You've been happier than usual, but it's hard to tell with him. Not demonstrative around the rest of us. But, the other night when he led you away, I figured it wasn't to show you his artwork."

I blushed remembering how I had thought that might have been his purpose. "I'd never seen his room. We hadn't had a chance to do more than—"

"Than make googly-eyes over tea cups, yeah, I'd noticed that much."

"So, what about you and the blond minx?"

He laughed at that. "He's more out-going than Heero."

"In a way," I said cautiously, "less so in private, but that was with me and I don't think he and I ever quite meshed."

"That's good to know," he said.

Trowa and I exchanged hooded glances and then with solemn goodnights, parted ways.

At home, I shoved a carton of Ramen in the microwave and opened a beer. Eat, shower, check phone messages, sleep. I'd see Heero all the next day. Man, that sounded good. I guess I loved attention and was languishing without it, and by "attention," I mean sex and caring both. With all my misconceptions about Heero's feelings out the door, I was one happy guy. He really and truly wanted my body in a good way. That blowjob was the stuff dreams are made of, for sure.

It was a good thing that Heero had experience. It made us a good fit. Training a newbie wasn't for me. I got to wondering who he'd been with. It did seem that Heero had no life apart from his painting and card business-- no friends, other than mine, and no visible past.

He could use a gun and disarm a man. I was going to have to get the story there. And I wondered what he'd done with that piece of my hair he'd cut off. He was weird, but hot and talented and smart and he liked me and only me, which made him perfect, unless he was running away from a wife, or husband, he hadn't told me about.

I guessed that it was time to get to know one another better, share our pasts… and then I wasn't sure I could talk about…Solo. I swiped at my eyes, tearing up just thinking about him and it had been…long enough to grieve.

I flopped onto my bed with my wet hair fanned out to dry. There were only two messages to take care of, and then I did something different—I didn't call Hilde; I called Heero.

"Duo?"

"Yeah, hi. I just wanted to say I can't wait to see you tomorrow."

"Me, too. I was…"

"What?"

"Oh, never mind. It was stupid."

"'Ro, you got me curious as hell. What?"

"I made you a card and left the inside blank. I didn't know how you'd feel about me by this time so I left it to the last."

"And now?" I started the ritual combing of my miles of hair, clamping the phone between my cheek and shoulder, which didn't work too well. "After that…what you did? I'm pretty much thinking you are perfect for me." And I hoped I'd said that right, and worried that I hadn't so I jumped topics. "You know, I was wondering about that piece of my hair you cut off."

"I saved it in a glassine envelope and thumb-tacked it over the drafting table where I work." Heero cleared his throat so I knew he was going to say more. "All I can think about is your dick and how much I like to suck it and I can't put that into a poem in your card."

_God! _"Oh, shit, how am I gonna sleep now?"

He was laughing. "I'll see you in the morning. Call."

"Okay, later, man."

"Bye."

(o)

I have to say, when Zechs told me Duo was on his way over and had invited Quatre and Trowa for a séance, my heart did back flips. I didn't give a flying fuck about the other two, but to see Duo appear so unexpectedly was truly an unanticipated pleasure. I had been certain he meant it as a surprise for me, because otherwise he would have called and warned me he was coming, if just to make certain I was home.

He and Zechs must have worked it all out. A trade, most likely, of my soul for exclusive rights to the funeral home. Relena and Zechs would relinquish their claim to my soul over to Duo and in return get a safe hideout for those nightly gatherings of the still animate dead.

Duo could have any part of me he wanted. In my mind, I was his, body and soul, already. Since he had bartered for my soul, what remained was for me to give him my body. That is why I decided to do for him that which his former boyfriend had not. In that way, I would be notable. He would appreciate the sex if not my nerve, if I was any judge of character. And I was. And he did.

Now, it was my turn to help him get his business back. First, I'd have to get inside and look around. _Would he invite me?_ I decided to confirm as much as possible with Trowa, since he would have had to have been informed, just in case the next morning he ran across any evidence of their … nighttime festivities.

I wondered if it was too late to call Trowa, but knowing his proclivity for visiting pool halls after midnight, I decided he would be awake. His number was listed online via the hospital, still, so I tried that one.

"Yo."

"Hi, ah, this is Heero."

"All right. So, what's on your mind?"

"How are things working out with Merquise… at the funeral home?"

"His honor? Heh, not bad. He studied entomology in school. Strange, huh?"

Vampires could control insects, possibly. I read about one instance where spiders did their bidding and wrapped a man in silk so they could drink his blood. "Not especially."

"If you're worried about the man hitting on Duo, you can forget it."

Finally, the information I was hoping for and I didn't have to spell it out either. "I don't? That's good."

"Duo knows how to look out for himself and he is hung up on you. You got nothing to worry about. That all?"

I had been right. Duo negotiated his shop for my soul. I would help him get it back.

"Yes, thank you. Good night."

"Anytime. 'Night, dude."

I fell asleep with many things on my mind.

And woke up remembering to finish Duo's card. I knew exactly what to write. Everything looked brighter in the morning. The ink barely had time to dry before I had to stuff the card into its envelope and race outside.

I had a minute to spare before Duo's hearse cruised up to the gate. I directed him to a safe place to park, walking alongside as the passenger window lowered.

"Sure we don't wanna ride? It's gonna be hot out!"

"We'll take the Metro and walk to the bus to downtown." I pointed to a parking spot. "We'll be better off without the car."

He complied, but when he locked the door, he pushed me against the car and kissed me. Duo kissed me twice-- long, languorous kisses that teased as much as they excited. He nibbled at my lips, sucked my tongue, tasted my teeth, and both had left me breathless. But each time, as I sank completely into the kiss, Duo pulled away, leaving me wanting more.

He winked and brushed his hand against mine. "We either take this inside or get going, right?"

"Right." I led the way off the Peacecraft property and onto the light rail public transportation for the Sancmetropolitan area. We stood next to each other; close, but not suspiciously close. When the train turned and lurched, Duo bumped into my back, his sudden warmth feeling wonderful. I couldn't distance myself despite knowing I should to be safe from the prying eyes and suspicious minds of homophobes.

"Next stop is ours," I warned him. Disappointment washed over me when he stepped back. I couldn't have it both ways. I either would allow him further intimacy or not. I wanted it, but in public venues, gay couples were at the mercy of society's prudes and punks. I _hoped_ he understood; he _seemed_ to understand my position and, more importantly, his.

"Gottcha."

We walked two blocks to the bus stop. We waited in the sun, feeling the rising heat off the pavement. I admired his legs, long and lean beneath baggy cargo shorts. His washed out blue t-shirt clung where I wanted to touch and draped loosely where I wanted my hands to slip under.

"Is this the one you want?" he asked.

He had been watching me study him. I could tell by his sassy smile that he thought he'd caught me. I probably blushed as I tore my eyes off him and checked the number of the arriving bus. "Yes—to both." I knew he'd get and appreciate the innuendo.

I checked my watch. Right on time. That was a good omen.

"Municipal Rose Garden?"

"Yes." I withdrew a sliver of a camera from my pocket. "I'd like some pictures, if you don't mind."

"Of me?"

"No, the roses." I watched his smile turn confused and laughed. "Both!"

"I want one of you, too."

"All right."

We snapped shots of blowsy roses and portraitures of one another with favorite choices. The sultry air weighed on us, dragging us to shady spots, and slow motion direction changes. For him, I found a gorgeous, orange-cream rose in full bloom. The dark green leaves contrasted perfectly with his pale skin. Gigantic gold and gray clouds rose in billows behind him. A spark of lighting in the distance. A rumble of thunder.

He liked red roses exclusively.

"The redder and darker the better," he said more than once. He photographed me standing in front of three different kinds. The best was near a chain-link fence with a backdrop of an old climbing rose.

"I'll wanna print of this one, 'kay?"

I agreed, but his smile dropped. I followed his eyes to a stone bench where a couple kissed. Other couples strolled hand-in-hand, happy in love in July in the sun. All heterosexual.

Another flash and rumble, this one long and resonating against the hills.

"Hungry?"

That perked him up. "Yeah, I can smell food from that cart over there."

"Hotdogs?"

"Sure." He touched my elbow in passing, and I quick-walked to catch up with him.

We ate hotdogs and fries with tall cups of lemonade.

"What did Buddha say to the hotdog vendor?" Duo asked our vendor, who gave him a twisted smile, encouraging him to go on. "Make me one with everything!"

I smiled and took my paper-wrapped dog, fries, and drink. "I remember watching hotdogs being produced in a factory. They started with crate loads of 'trimmin's'. Not meat 'trimmings', but 'trimmin's. It was not pretty to watch."

"'Ro? Eat and enjoy and forget the not pretty stuff."

"I'll look at you then."

"Yeah…" He chuckled and hid his pink cheeks.

A cluster of teenagers stumbled past us and one shouted something nasty about us over his shoulder, making his friends laugh. Duo and I pretended not to have heard, and like typical guys, once food was in hand we ate in silence, wolfing down the food with raging appetites born of very little activity. The result of which, while I was now satiated in one way, as my body burned the new fuel it also generated more heat. Washing it all down with sweet lemonade did nothing to cool me down. There was no relief from the oppressive temperature and humidity, even in the shade of a tree. Plus… I suffered from the constant urge to push Duo to the ground and lose myself in a kiss, and knew I couldn't, we couldn't. I was miserable.

"Hey," he called me out of my mental prison. "Don't let the outside world get you down. Talk to me."

_What I wanted was_ "…a grand seeping wind to blow us into another time and place where two gay men could express their feelings in a park like the rest of humanity and feel like perverted outcasts. Ty had kissed and fondled me in public, humiliating me. He called me his bitch and a slut, but he was the one who made me that way. I wasn't. I should have shot him when I had had the chance, but instead I ran."

I felt a chill, not a good one, as I realized I'd said that aloud. All of it. No wonder Duo was staring at me. When Duo's hand covered mine, I didn't shrink away. I steeled myself for the probing a revelation like that opened me up for. But it didn't come.

"'Ro, liars are the first to call someone else a liar; cheats accuse others of cheating first. My point being that this Ty guy? He was the pervert and the slut, not you."

It was too soon to explain Ty, wasn't it? I suppose my subconscious thought differently, but Duo seemed to understand me perfectly. He didn't ask who Ty was or pry jealously about what he was to me still. How did he know that I wasn't begging to tell-all about my sordid past?

Sigh. But then, he didn't know I knew about Solo. He'd had to hide that relationship, too, hadn't he? I felt so bad to ask him to pretend about us. I felt his eyes on me.

"'Ro?"

Maybe he read my face better than anyone ever had before.

"I'm okay with us the way we are, you and me. Quatre was too touchy-feely everywhere but where it counted. You pretty much let me know you aren't opposed to, ah, getting close in private. Heh, heh… So, what I mean is if we don't make out where people can see us, I can deal with it. I mean, I can fit in with whatever makes you comfortable. Okay?"

"Yes. Thanks." I nodded and looked away in time to see lightening snap and crackle against the dark clouds. The thunder came a second later. "It's not that I'm not proud to be seen with you."

"I know… ah, jeez… We're going to get soaked." Duo held up a hand and caught a huge raindrop in the eye.

"There's a bandstand this way!" I grabbed his hand and yanked him to his feet. "Run!"

Halfway in our sprint to the old wooden gazebo, the warm moist collection of water vapor had risen into the atmosphere, cooling the clouds and triggering the formation of water droplets. Just before we could reach cover, the sky opened and dropped a torrential downpour upon us.

"Aw, crap!" Duo grumbled as he wrung out his braid.

I must have looked like a drowned rat—that's how I felt with droplets falling from the tips of my bangs. He was soaked to the skin and looked awesome. His muscled shoulders accentuated his slim waist. His t-shirt clung to his chest showing nipples hardening into nubs I wanted to tease with my tongue.

There was no one in sight, but I was afraid to act or ask if I might, but he had no qualms about touching me now. I felt his hands, one raking the hair off my face and the other on my shoulder, steadying me.

"'Sokay. Just us. Well, that solved the too hot problem, didn't it?"

"Yes." I couldn't get the sullen out of my voice, but I liked the feeling of his arms around me. I could feel him laughing and holding it in. "What's so funny?"

"This stupid jingle Trowa found on the internet… He was looking something up in the morgue and it popped up. Let's see… It went something like: it goes in dry and it comes out wet, the longer it's in, the stronger it gets. It comes out dripping and starts to sag; it's not what you think, it's just a tea bag."

He made me laugh. I loved that about him. "That's terrible, Duo."

"Yeah, terrible me."

His hands slid around and down over my butt and he pulled me close.

"Um? Something in your pocket?"

I thought he meant my erection grinding against his, but he meant my back pocket and pushed me off to look at the card he'd found.

"Ah, ha! It has my name on it, too. You made me a card. I was hoping, but now that you didn't have to win me over, I wasn't sure I'd get any more."

"I'll make them for you always and forever," I blurted out.

He patted my cheek with a chuckle, then went back to examining his card. "Oh…wow… Fireworks. How did you get it raised this way?"

"It's embossed and I added the embellishments by hand so it sparkled." I looked at it, thankful the rain hadn't soaked through and made the ink run.

"This is beautiful. Thanks!"

Then he opened it and read the inscription: _**"You've captured my mind, my heart, my imagination, and yet I feel liberated. Hold me and never let me go!" **_

"I-I thought it was more poetic than 'I want to suck your dick.'" Yeah, I said that aloud. Around Duo I discovered over and over that I just wanted to say what was on my mind. I wanted to share my thoughts and opinions. It was as if I was fearless. I'd never been fearless.

He was laughing again. "Sounds like poetry to me!" More laughter and then he was holding me, damp warm chest to damp warm chest, again. "I mean it was great. You were great. And, ah, I didn't get a chance to reciprocate. A-a-a-nd now you've given me a gift and I haven't a thing for you."

"You did invite me to your place," I reminded him.

The rain finally let up and we walked along the path to the lake. There, we joined the other half-sodden visitors and others fresh and dry from their cars on the ridge over-looking the lake.

"But the grass is wet," Duo told me.

"And so are you, so it doesn't matter. You can't stand throughout the whole firework show. Now sit."

I pulled him to sit beside me. I had looked for a spot, which mostly concealed us, and it was growing dark. When the show started, no one would be looking at us—no one was looking now, so I held his hand.

"You do this before?" he asked me.

"No. I have never cared for fireworks. My adoptive father had taught me to shoot a gun and the explosion when the gun fired scared me. I was only eight years old at the time."

"Hmmm, I'll keep you safe."

The reflections of the park lights shimmered on dark surface of the lake. Other people flickered in and out of sight, silhouetted and fading back into the darkness. And then the first rocket shot high over the water and burst into a myriad of brilliant lights. Before the bang, Duo had scooted over and around my back, practically pulling me onto his lap and holding me tightly.

"Never let you go," he shouted over the blast in the air.

The firework show was visually exciting, but compared to what Duo was setting off inside me the pyrotechnics were a fizzle. I closed my eyes and absorbed his rumbling laughter, his warmth, the feel of his thick, damp braid weighing heavily across my chest and along my thigh. I was nervous. Getting nervous about going to his place, but that meant we'd get naked, completely. _What if I disappointed him?_

Lights in the park winked out. It hardly mattered because the light show overhead was still illuminating the sky, but when the big finale was over, it was still dark.

"Do you know the way back to the bus stop?"

"We'll take a taxi, and I know where to catch one, but we'll have fun getting there in the dark," I told him.

Our progress was slow, and about halfway into our walk, the lights came back on.

"Good. Fixed." That meant we could move faster.

"The storm must have moved on."

"I see the taxi stand," he said, trotting faster.

Just before we reached the first car, his cell phone buzzed. "Just a sec." He looked at the ID number. "Security for the mortuary. Gotta take this. Yeah? Duo Maxwell, you got him. What'sup? Yeah? You're sure? Damn. Okay, thanks. I'll be there as soon as I can." He turned to me. "So, I get a call from security at mortuary, and when the power went out the backup generators for the cooler started up, right? Everything's hunky dory. Then the power goes back on and blows out the circuits, or something. The coolers are off, and if I don't get them fixed, well… I don't need to tell you what a morgue in summer without refrigeration means."

"No." It meant we weren't going to his place right away, but it also meant I'd have that opportunity to go inside his workplace. Perfect. "Let's take the taxi straight there. I'll help."

"You are so… You are one of a kind, 'Ro. Thanks."

"Just…never let me go."

* * *

End Chapter 8

**TBC in Chapter 9 -- August Moon**


	10. August Moon, part 1

Greeting Cards

**Greeting Cards**

This is an on-going story arc, based on Heero's greeting cards, and updated monthly, at least.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

**Warnings:** AU, male/male pairings, language, some embalming and autopsies topics covered

**Chapter 10 --**

**August Moon part 1**

* * *

Fixing the morgue's cooler wasted the entire night. The repair man was "like on holiday, dude," and couldn't give a rat's ass about my plight. I had a contract, though, and his boss wanted to remain out of the court system, so repair-dude showed up, eventually. Meanwhile, as well insulated as it was, the crypt wouldn't stay near freezing without ice, so I would have to take the van out to buy bagged ice, leaving Heero alone in a smelly mortuary waiting for repair-dude.

He was a trooper. Not repair-dude; Heero. I had this stab of unwarranted fear sudden and sharp enough to ask, "You'll be okay here while I run out for ice?" By which I meant: Will you still be here when I get back?

"I'm fine." He wasn't the least bit uncomfortable being left alone in the mortuary. He said he'd just look around, mentioning something about "putting up wards". I had no idea what he was talking about, figuring he meant artwork, and that didn't make any sense either.

I had rotting corpses to take care of so I just smiled and wished him luck. "Knock yourself out."

"Protection wards."

He repeated this, which was thoughtful of him, but damn if I could do more than try to assure him the dead would stay that way and that he had nothing to fear. I mean, how well did I know this guy and here I was leaving him to be the sole possessor of my business?

"…tricky business that has more to do with shielding living souls from possession."

"Say what?" My thoughts just collided with his lecture and the result was a word jumble.

He just smiled. "I'll be fine. You'd best hurry."

God, I nearly broke down at that smile and told him I was in love. He would have thought I was crazy, so I didn't. Instead I said something along the lines of "Okay, then I'm out on an ice run. Ring me if …well… just 'if', 'kay?"

"I ring you, 'if'. Oh! Do you have any sticky-notes? Those yellow pads with tacky glue along one edge?"

"Yeah, on my desk. Help yourself."

On my third run, after loading 17 bags of ice, Heero called with the news that the repair-dude had arrived. "The 'if' moment is now."

"Cool. On my way."

Adding another element to the story was the ventilation system. I had shut off the fans. The fans shared the circuit with the cooling system, possibly, I didn't know absolutely, but I shut it off for a reason. Heero and I had been outside in the heat all day long and we were none too fresh smelling. Add to that a couple ripening cadavers in the basement where the inoperable refrigeration unit was and the place carried a heady fragrance.

Why had I done? Surely not to entice my boyfriend. No. It was to get the repair-dude to see the importance of getting his job done pronto.

I think it worked. By the time I rolled up with my ice, he had the cooling unit torn apart and parts scattered on a tarp.

"I'll have this done record fast," he promised. "Gawd awful stench."

"If you'd come when I first called, it wouldn't be so bad now, and even with this ice, it's only gonna get worse."

"Much worse," Heero added, catching my drift, and probably my odoriferous-ness, too.

Heero and I moved upstairs to my office, a cubbyhole open to the cadaver keep where I had a desk, chair, and couch. In the past I'd camped out there when I hadn't a place to live—like after Solo's death. I'd lived secretly with Solo so when he died, I lost my lover, my home, and nearly my mind. I didn't want to think about him, though. I wanted to get to know Heero better.

Instead, I said the first thing that came to mind. "Trowa said we should have seen Relena's face when you hauled me upstairs to your room."

"She knows I'm gay. I've told her repeatedly, but she thinks it's a preventable condition or alterable with enough effort on her part."

"She's still attracted to you, then?"

Heero shrugged his indifference and did his own change of subject. "Did Trowa tell you if he had achieved anything with the hypnotism?"

"He didn't learn anything of interest to me, or so he said. From what he didn't say, I think Quatre loved the challenge." I wanted off the topic of my ex-boyfriend and my employee, which I had inadvertently begun. "They're conducting more investigations this weekend, so maybe they'll make some progress."

Heero smile warped wry at that and he commented, "Progress in what, exactly?" But he knew not to go there any deeper, and cast his gaze around the room. "I'm done."

And then I noticed the hundreds of sticky notes plastered in my office, and through the open door I could see them hanging like fall leaves all the way down the hallway.

"Ah, why are there sticky notes hanging all around the place?" With symbols on them in black magic marker.

"O-fuda."

Oh, fudge? I waited for more in the way of an explanation, but it was the repair-dude's muffled voice I heard, muttering through a handkerchief filter. "Mr. Maxwell? I found the problem."

I was tired, crabby, and wanting to take a shower and to have some quality time with my crazy boyfriend, who had the need to decorate with an art form a bit beyond my reckoning, so I insulted the creepy repair-dude.

"I hope you fixed the problem! Even I coulda found it."

"Uh, huh, well, I fixed it." He lowered the handkerchief from his mouth. "I'll show ya."

He showed me the burned out regulator and the line breaker to keep it from happening the next time the power shut down. I reset the thermostat and flicked on the ventilation. We stood and stared at one another; we understood one another for a second there as the refrigerated air blasted us, blowing our hair and freezing the sweat on my body. I had the power to make his working conditions hell. He had the power to make mine heaven. Lets all work together next time; at least, that was my take on the whole exchange.

"It works." I pronounced the repair a success.

"That's what I said." He collected his parts and tools, had me sign the work order, and left.

Heero slapped a paper on my forehead. "Protection."

"Do I have to wear it on my forehead?"

"No, you can pocket it, but keep it on you."

I looked at what he'd applied to me—another sticky note with an abstract stick figure in black ink. "Whatsit?"

"Kanji." The heat rose up his neck contributing to two bright spots on his high cheekbones. "It says: 'Evil one go away' or the equivalent… in Japanese."

"Oh yeah? Cool." And then I noticed the new look. All around the cadaver keep yellow sticky notes fluttered in the blowing eddies of cold air like living things, like butterflies. It was very…different. "Okay. Didn't know I needed anything like this, but what the hey? Can't hurt, right?"

Well, maybe, maybe not. Trowa wasn't much for surprises or change. He liked things pretty static, which I could appreciate. If I'd lost my memories, I'd like to establish as much consistency in my life as possible. Even without the memory loss, I liked the workplace to remain stable, a constant in my life. Come Monday morning, he was going to be disturbed by the unexpected change, so I scribbled a short explanation (it had to be short since I had practically nothing to say) and pinned it to his coveralls.

"Let's give it another few minutes to make sure the temperature stays even then we can go."

"To your place?"

Man, did he sound eager. I liked eager. I liked him.

And I was terrified all of the sudden. He was too beautiful to take into my dismal apartment. We needed showers and mine was… When was the last time I'd cleaned it? Had I ever? Dear God almighty I couldn't take him in there!

But I hadn't any alternative, or did I…? I could keep the light off. Did I have any candles? That could be impressive. No, special. Possibly. Certainly different. Well…yeah. It could lend an atmosphere of… yeah. What was left of my romantic inclinations just oozed out of me at that point.

"You left your car up at the palace. We could taxi over. I think the buses have stopped for the night."

We could. And then he tuned in to my overall mood change.

"I know a bar where we could get a drink. I'm thirsty. And I know a place where we can cool off a few blocks away."

"That sounds great." And it actually did.

I checked the thermostat and all was fine, so I locked the door, while he ran down a cab. I think relief rolled off me with some sweat. I guess I wasn't ready to… What? Jump in the sack with Mr. Incredible? Possibly introduce him to some deadly disease growing in my shower? Stun him with my poverty-stricken existence while he lived in a palace? What in Gods name was I thinking when I invited him to my place?

Well, what else? Sex. I was thinking with my mini-mind, Mr. Dickie.

While I was losing it, Heero was commandeering a groggy-eyed cabbie. He pushed me into the vehicle and directed the driver to a well-lit street bustling with upscale nightlife.

"Are we dressed okay for this place?" Translation: Won't folks notice that we stink like a sewer?

"We're going out on the patio. It'll be fine."

O-fuda protect me from the bouncer. It worked! We glided in the door and through the packed bar, past the dining room, and to the spacious patio seating area—and not once were we stopped and directed to the nearest exit.

The French doors were open wide into the patio. Outside it was still warm. A street light shone in the distance, the light glancing off one glass door a sulfurous gold. There was not the faintest breeze and the garden drowsed in the scented evening air from overhanging arbors of honeysuckle and roses. On the tables, the candle flames glowed palely, striking soft reflections on the glasses.

"This is cool. How didya find out about this place?"

"It isn't far from the art museum. I walked past it many times and ate inside once. Champagne?"

Heero totally blew me away sometimes. "Really, a beer would be fine."

"Have some, please."

Who was I to deny him? "Oh, okay."

"I have a toast."

I held my glass out and we clinked gently.

"To Duo, my heart, happy birthday."

And my heart, which he called his heart, nearly stopped beating. "H-how did you know?"

Heero smiled. "Secret."

"It's really tomorrow."

"Look again."

"Oh." It was two in the morning. Tomorrow had come. August first.

"I got you a gift."

"'Ro, you have absolutely floored me. I need nothing more."

"When asked what he wanted for his birthday, the Yogi replied, 'I wish no gifts, only presence'," Heero said and then he smiled.

And he handed me another card, this one was attached to the bottle. He must have planned to come here all along. I ripped open the undecorated envelope to find a simple ivory card. No art. Inside, it read:

I promise to do everything in my power to bring you

A year filled with good fortune

in everything you do.

A year that sees your wishes

and dreams all coming true.

A year to find contentment

right from the very start.

A year for all the special things

you hold close to your heart.

A year to just enjoy your life

with never a regret.,

A year for making memories

that you will not forget.

_**May I be there to share each day's journey and bring you closer to your dreams?**_

I laughed. I was so full of happiness I couldn't help it, especially when I realized that the champagne was wrapped in underwear, dark-red, silk boxers. It was as if I was a bit high, and I guess I was a little-- Heero had gone to my head.

I was laughing so hard I cried, but he was looking at me with those earnest blue eyes, waiting for an answer.

"God, yes. You couldn't force a separation now. You and me, we're tight."

That made him smile and my world shook. If I could see that smile everyday for the rest of my life, I'd be satisfied with whatever else fate smacked me with. I considered just flat out saving a lot of time and asking him to move in and marry me, or whatever we could do to seal the deal, when he saved me from another rash act.

"There's more."

"There is?" Oh, my car back at the palace, my place, and death by filthy shower. "Ah, about my place-"

"Let's go cool off."

"Good idea, but--"

"I know a place."

Sure he did.

We walked to a giant fountain. I'd seen it, heard its roar while rushing from one end of town to the other. Nice thing, but I wasn't gonna jump in a municipal fountain, though, I was beginning to wonder if my artist friend would and if he did would I follow him anywhere? I could see tomorrow's paper, my face plastered on page 5, the local news. "Gay sex scandal: formerly solid citizen Maxwell Mortuary owner, Duo Maxwell, found cavorting in downtown fountain with mysterious artist."

_Oh, jeez…_

"This way," he said, turning past the fountain, down a few steps, and around the other side of low border.

I thought it was just the one fountain, but its outpouring circulated into inter-locking wading pools. I'd never before seen this place. The pools were totally obstructed by plantings and walls, although totally open to the public. Here and there the pools were lit with glowing, green, submerged lights. The waterfalls had a phosphorescent look. As many as a dozen other people, all young from what I could tell, dotted the shallows, dangling feet into water; even a few submerged their bodies in the deeper parts.

"Escaping the heat," Heero told me as he stripped off his shirt.

I stared. I couldn't rip my eyes away from the most perfect body God created. My favorite kind, too, wide shoulders, long sinewy torso narrowing past a washboard stomach to boney hips and… tighty-whities A/N: white cotton briefs. He took off his shorts and sandals and stood there in his underwear.

"Coming?" He smiled and added, "in?"

"Yup." If I could drag my body to action, that is. "What do we do with our stuff?"

"Roll it up. Carry it. Follow me."

"Ummmm." I liked his orders. I liked his ass. I liked _him_, a lot.

I dipped my toes into the water, clothes and red silkies in a bundle under my arm. "Jesus! It's cold!"

"Yes. Feels good, doesn't it?"

"I can't feel my toes!"

"You're not so bothered by the heat either, are you?"

"You're so fulla shit."

And we laughed together, kicked up a little water, and then he nudged me toward a waterfall.

"Oh, no. I'm not going under that."

He smiled and slipped around, going behind it! I followed him and ended up in a tiny cave, the water a veil of fluorescing light shielding us from the world. He took my clothes, stuffed them on high, dry ledge, and beckoned me to squeeze in beside him, coiling my braid on his lap.

There, our feet chilled and our mouths sought out warmer company. Had the cement steps been softer, I would have been in his lap, as it was, we sat thigh pressed to thigh. I know if there'd been more light, I could've seen through his briefs. I wanted to touch him there, but I didn't, even though I don't think he would have minded. His chest was hard with muscle. His skin so hot it burned. His kisses deep. His tongue penetrating and as strong as the rest of his body. Not a single disappointment.

And then we were shivering and had to get out. By the time we re-dressed into our limp, sweaty clothes, we were stifling in the unrelenting, moist heat again, but we'd had fun. Then I thought about the invitation I'd extended for him to come to my place. My awful place.

"I don't think—" I began.

His eyes met mine and he ran his fingers down my arm. I guess he was having as hard of a time keeping his hands off me as I was keeping my hands to myself. "I know. It will be impossible to find a taxi this time at night over here. I'll walk you to your car," he said. "We can go to your place when we haven't had such a full day. Is that okay with you?"

God, I loved him. "Thanks. I wasn't thinking straight. I'd like to be with you more, but my place is kinda…"

He silenced me with a fingertip to my lips. "It's all right. I'm glad you wanted me. I, ah, I'd have you come over but there's an event at the palace. I didn't think you'd want to make your entrance…"

"God, no! Dressed like this? Good call."

"You are welcome." He looked away and I wondered what he was thinking, and then he told me. "I studied you for months, there in the coffee shop, before we met formally. I know your body language well enough to determine when you are uncomfortable."

God, he was an artist and no detail passed him by, I'm sure.

"Not that I was invading your privacy! I wasn't that...creepy. You are so...stunningly beautiful I couldn't take my eyes off you."

He was breathless, practically stuttering, and his expression so earnest-- he desperately needed reassurance from me. "'Ro, I'm not beautiful, but it's okay you think so and it's okay you looked at me. I mean, you were doing portrait of me and all. That's not creepy that's flattering."

He looked so relieved. "Thanks. I know I can become a little intense."

"You think?" I laughed and his powerful glare softened instantly, and with it spots darkened his high cheek bones. "Um, you know, it was the best birthday I can ever remember, even though…"

"Even though it was not the right day?"

"You knew..." I could have gazed into those kind eyes forever. "Close enough, though. It's the thought that counts, not thinking 'bout the count."

"Yes, and it was fun with the firework show, right?"

"Yeah, like that was all for me, in spite of the wrong day thing." _And the morgue_. "and the job getting in the way."

"Working around the emergency at the mortuary was problematic. But I called the bar where I'd set up the table and champagne reservation and told them to push out the time, so that worked. Thanks for playing along."

_Pretending it was my actual birthday and getting the best birthday celebration ever?_ "Sure. So, does that mean I get another celebration on my actual birthday?"

"Oh yeah. We'll go somewhere. Arrange a couple days off and we'll stay at a lodge or inn," he said, and then ran his fingers lightly down the side of my face. "Would you like that?"

"Yeah." That sounded fantastic. My libido surged back at the thought of being alone with Heero, two days vacation, and a lodge in the mountains. I'm sure I was as dreamy-eyed as he was, standing there at the edge of the park in shadows cast by a far off streetlight.

And then he had a hand in my hair. Under the August moon, he kissed me again. I flung my arms around his neck and ground my erection into his, making it absolutely certain how I felt about him. I don't think anyone was around to see, but that wasn't the point.

(o)

I did it. I protected Duo and his workplace. I surprised him and showed him a good time. I felt good. I really needed him to keep me grounded. With him I felt comfortable and my heart safe. The golden opportunity arose and I supplied protection from the dark realm.

I hope that some day he will trust me wholly with his heart. I could tell Solo had hurt him. Duo was so open, honest, and affectionate. It was criminal to force him to submerge those wonderful feelings, which were bubbling just on the surface most of the time. I think Solo and Ty would have deserved one another. Maybe someday I'd tell Duo about Ty and then he'd feel like telling me about Solo.

And then we'd do an exorcism thing. Do away with them completely, because if we don't and if we let them, Ty and Solo will haunt us forever. Living or dead, bad experiences like them remain in your head.

Then we could ditch those guys forever and move on. I might even be able to hold his hand in public, if he wanted to, of course.

God, it hurt not to just stay in his arms. He was so alive and kind and excited. I knew… I know he wants me and yet he doesn't make any demands.

His body is hot and cut. I should try moving dead bodies for exercise.

I think I'll like letting him take over. I can imagine his weight on me...

He could have taken me _anyplace_ and pounded my ass tonight, had he wanted to, but he had seemed uncomfortable about taking me home with him. I wanted to tell him I didn't care what his place was like, that I'd only see him, but then we did need to clean up and I hadn't packed a change of clothes. We might have arranged that, but I think he and I understood that we have no reason to rush.

He understands everything about me in such a way that I don't have to tell him a thing-- he just _knows_. And he doesn't hide his feelings, not from me. He's letting me touch him and he trusts me.

I adore him. Does he know that? Should I say it aloud? Would that scare him off? I think I can and he'll like hearing about my devotion. I think. I'll find us the perfect inn, the perfect place, then I'll tell him. That's the right setting and he'll appreciate m e waiting for the right moment. Not too soon or too late.

Won't he?

I guess I can't second-guess him totally. I just don't want to be too pushy and chase him away or too distant and lose his interest. Romance is so hard.

No, it isn't. I'm thinking too hard. Just be myself. I should take it slowly, but rushing into things with him is so tempting! Still, there is no race. We have already found each other so we have already won. We can take our time to discover one another, inch by delicious inch.

That's what I fell asleep that night thinking about—discovering Duo Maxwell.

(o)

"Hil'? Pretty late for you to be calling." I rolled over in bed to check the time on my alarm clock. "Been awhile, eh?"

"Ages! I've left you dozens of messages and you never call back, which might be forgiven if it's because you're spending time with that hottie of yours."

"I have, plus I lost AC at the shop."

There was a long pause as my best girlfriend absorbed that, and then she let out a nasally "Eew! I'd lose every customer in two minutes if that happened to me. No one wants to try on clothes in a sweat. But your place, shit, Duo…that's nasty. Too bad that cut your night short."

"Not too short. He stayed and put up … kinda a work of art. More symbolic than anything else."

"That's what is called 'conceptual art', you moron. Listen, I got news. Wufei's being recruited by the Preventers!"

"The international peace keeping agency?"

"Yeah, a big promotion. They do investigations and all and he's been highly successful."

"Sounds great. Give him my congrats. Now, I gotta get some sleep so I can do some rescheduling. I'm taking a vacation."

"No!"

"Yes, a long weekend."

"With your artist?"

"Yes."

"Be careful. You can be such a submissive, and don't deny it!"

"I'm not denying anything, but with him it's not that way. It's like we're equal. Balanced."

"Uh, huh. You see an equal and I see a a closet psycho. The moment he gets too domineering, scat, you hear me?"

"Yeah, I hear you but I don't think he's that much of a chameleon. Whenever he tries to be a little assertive, in the next moment he folds and asks me if that was okay. He reads me like a book. We are so in sync; ya know how that can be? Well, not me. It's a first. Besides, he's stronger than a two-week old cadaver in the sun and has never hurt me."

"He smells?"

"No, I said… bad comparison, then. He works out, I think."

"Hmmm... yummy body then? Promise me you'll call me when you're gone. Let me know things are okay?"

"Things will be okay."

"Promise!"

"Okay, I'll phone ya at regular intervals. I'll even give you a run down of …no… I'll give you a blow-by-blow description of what's going on."

Silence.

"Really? Can I record it? No, no, no! Take my laptop. It's gotta videocam. Now, I'll you'll need to do is…"

"Forget it! I was joking. I'm not recording my private…affairs for you and you voyeur girlfriends to watch at your so-called book club meetings."

"Oh… I know… You are never any fun. But I was serious about the keeping in touch part. Just in case."

"I know. Love you too, babe. I'll let you know when and where and call you when I get in, were 'ere we go."

"Thanks! Night then."

"Night, Hil." And thanks for caring.

* * *

End Chapter 10

TBC in Chapter 11 -- August Moon part 2


	11. August Moon, part 2

**Greeting Cards**

This is an on-going story arc, based on Heero's greeting cards, and updated monthly, at least.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

**Warnings:** AU, male/male pairings, language, some embalming and autopsies topics covered. **Maggots** in flesh to make the skin crawl.

**Chapter 11 --**

**August Moon part 2**

* * *

It was just another morning at the morgue, and Zechs surprised me by showing up a minute after I did.

Zechs' disconcertingly pale blue eyes crinkled away in a smile. "I couldn't wait to 'dive in' this morning," he admitted.

Trowa buzzed up on his new motorcycle, which we all had to go check out for ten minutes. I thought it would be awkward having my friend and employee dating my ex, but when he mentioned his name in passing, it didn't bother me at all. Everything was going to be all right.

"It's a BMW R1200GS. Quatre helped me pick it out. Pretty cool, huh?"

Yes it was, and I was on the bike in a heartbeat. "Is this the new supermoto hybrid machine?"

Trowa couldn't have been more pleased. If he had grinned any harder it would have split his face in two. "Yeah, built from a dirt bike platform for racing but still's great for riding on pavement. It can dismantle a tight and twisty canyon quicker than pretty much anything out there."

I asked for and received Trowa's beamingly excited answers, rattling off engine sizes, borings, ratios, and stats _ad infinitum_.

"It's got the same basic platform of an air-oil-cooled 1,170cc OHV four-valve Boxer Twin as a stressed member in a tubular-steel trellis frame riding on a 19-inch front and 17-inch rear wheel. Suspension is the German bike maker's unique Telelever up front and Paralever out back. I chose the Adventure model's 8.7-gallon fuel tank, 1.7-inch taller adjustable seat height, spoked wheels, hand guards, the larger windscreen, off-road style wide-platform footpegs, and crash guards for the fuel tank and cylinder heads."

"Does 105 hp at 7,500 rpm, an unchanged 85 ft-lbs at 5,750 rpm, and a new 8,000-rpm redline, up from 7750 rpm. And it's got a stiffer 6-speed gearbox with slightly shorter transmission ratios to capitalize on increased engine output as well as a slightly shortened secondary gear ratio. You gotta give it a ride sometime."

"I'd like that—"

"First gear is 10-percent shorter for slow-speed crawling, allowing you to modulate the throttle without having to constantly feather the clutch to pick your way around technical terrain."

He would have gone on, except that Zechs interrupted and pressed him about the séance. "What, if anything, have you learned about your past from Quatre's meddling?"

The magic broke and the chatty Trowa shut down.

"Not much."

A man of few words. That was Trowa running on normal. When he reached for his coveralls in the changing room, he noticed my warning note right off and had a few choice words.

"Oh foo duh-- for our protection. Maxwell, what the fuck?"

"Just preparing you for a little redecoration project Heero got into the other night. Nothing to be concerned about. It's all good. It's art, anyway. Con-cep-tu-al art to be precise."

Precise, but wrong I was to find out.

The lab phone let loose with a jarring ring and we ran in from the changing room. Trowa snapped off one glove and took the call.

"Maxwell's Funeral Home and Mortuary." He listened for some time, plucked a yellow sticky note off the wall, and jotted a few notes on the back. "Okay, shoot, Chang." There was a long pause while Zechs and I gathered around and waited. "Yeah, that was quick. Hey, thanks for letting us know. Glad to help."

"What was that all about?" I asked. I was last to leave the dressing area, having had a great evening out the night before with Heero, and feeling happy inside.

"That was one of the detectives on the case of the body you pulled from the salt tank. He said they found a car in the parking lot with blood spots and fly pupae on the seat related to those we found on the body. If the DNA testing checks out, then they found the car used to transport the corpse."

"Great? Who does the car belong to?" I asked.

"It was his car," Trowa's voice dropped and his eyes met mine. "Dekim Barton's. The tank was full and there was a receipt stub from a gas station dated 9 days earlier than the discovery of the body– just as we thought."

"As we had deduced from the facts," I corrected. "So are they running prints from the car?"

"Yeah. Waiting on that, too."

"Did you say Heero Yuy put these up?" Zechs asked.

"Yeah." I hoped he wouldn't ask why or expect me to explain them.

"Why?"

Well, hell… "For protection?"

"These are o-fuda-- Japanese Shinto good luck charms that are drawn or written by priests. It's a folk custom, pasting the o-fuda, in places to repel evil demons and prevent disasters." Zechs sighed and stared at me appraising my intelligence. "That man is certifiable."

Certifiable?

"I'm going to check the 'to do' list," Trowa said, moving off, when the phone rang again. "Your turn, Zechs."

"As you wish. Hello, Maxwell's Funeral Home and Mortuary."

Zechs listened to the message and jotted down a few instructions, also using an overhanging o-fuda. I hoped doing that wasn't like despoiling consecrated ground or something and bring us bad luck or undo the charm or insult the artist.

"We shall be there in..." he checked the wall clock before saying, "twenty minutes. Yes, thank you." He lifted the van keys off the hook. "Duty calls. We have a live one-- with bug life only-- out on Route 90."

"Tro'? You okay here alone for an hour or so?"

"Sure."

"Okay," I said to my lofty, chic volunteer. "I'll accompany you."

I realized while standing beside the taller man, that when I pushed my hands into the coverall's pockets, I made a dramatic contrast to Zechs, who would never have dreamed of doing so. He made the worker's uniform look smart and fashionable. Jamming his hands into the pockets would ruin the line of his clothes, even if they were just coveralls, and he was far too innately elegant to do that.

"Have fun." Trowa shuffled through the assignment sheets. "Looks like I can take care of what is here when you get back with whatever you find."

I mock-saluted him and jumped in line after Zechs heading out the door. "Go on, you drive. And… make sure you stay well off the road while you are loading. Cars speed going down that road; at least, we've gotten several accident victims delivered from there in the past, heh, heh..."

Zechs paused at the van. "You have a very dark sense of humor, Duo Maxwell. I like it."

En route to pick up body, Zechs asked, "What kind of education is required to do Trowa's job?"

"Not much. He's way overqualified for the embalming work. There are a few specialty schools around where it's taught, but mostly everything can be learned on the job. Now, when we add in the autopsy part of the job, that takes more training, like mine or what he's got. To be a morgue attendant, like what you're doing, is rarely formally trained. On-the-job training seems sufficient. What Trowa does takes more training, and with a college education he can work cases for the government, do research, or any of several choices."

"He told me he's far happier working for you than where he was in the hospital," Zechs said.

"Oh yeah? That's nice to know." I turned on the radio and we listened to the news and weather for a few miles. "I see the turn off for Route 90 up ahead."

"And then it's a few miles north of that. I don't see many women working in a morgue. Or is that just your preference?"

"It's heavy work, moving bodies. And it smells. Doesn't attract too many people to begin with, and women the least. I think a woman doing Trowa's job is a one-in-one-hundred occurrence. Still, if you do the job right, it's secure work. Most folks in your position tend to stay at their job for decades. I think this is because most management types don't know what goes on in the morgue, and would not care to mess around with its staffing come belt-tightening time, and the attendants themselves like being left alone by management, and enjoy a much greater degree of autonomy than most workers at their pay grade and level of education."

"What Trowa said amounted to the same thing. A select bunch we are," Zechs smiled.

"My own impression of the 'morgue attendant personality' is somewhat secretive and cliquish, and one gets the idea that they have a lot more going on in their lives than they tend to let on. I've known them to entertain a variety of strange often repulsive visitors in the morgue." I smiled over at Zechs, and added, "But there are exceptions."

He chuckled. "I see flashing lights up ahead."

Zechs pulled over behind a patrol car near an exit on Route 90, where an officer was waiting, but no wreck. It was the same blond investigator as before.

"Hey!" I shouted while hopping out of the van. "We seem to hang out at the darnedest places, eh?"

The man brightened when he recognized us and remained glued to Zechs. "Seems that way."

"So, where's the body for us to pick up?" I asked looking around and breaking their eye contact.

"It's off a rural road a ways. Two dirt bikers driving through came across a burned-out car. The spot is pretty remote. I thought meeting here at the exit would make it easier to locate. Just follow me." The officer replied to me, but his eyes never left Zechs'.

"That officer is attracted to you, you are aware of that, aren't you?" I asked him when we were rolling again, this time following the patrol car into the dark.

"You're reading too much into these meetings. He has only seen me the two times over corpses, and he doesn't even know me. Besides, I'm straight and uninterested in anything he has to offer."

"You think knowing you makes a difference?" I smiled. "He was crazy about you the moment he laid eyes on you."

"That's enough. Not interested." Zechs blushed like crazy. "I'm trying to concentrate. This road's gravel and rutted and... Ugh! Full of potholes."

"Careful not to break an axle."

"Shut up or I'll set you up with one of my sister's friends, the name Dorothy comes to mind."

"I dated girls, girl, once and… no thanks."

"Point made then?"

"Gotcha."

Another patrol car was at the scene, headlights and a couple of portable battery-powered electric lamps providing the only lighting. Holding our flashlight over my head, Zechs illuminated the gloomy interior of the wreck enough for me to observe the situation. The glimmer of light flickered across the back seat and over the charred body grotesquely slumped in death.

"We've already surveyed the crime scene and taken the photos, so it's ready for you to remove the corpse from the car," the investigator told Zechs.

"Thanks. By the way, what's your name?" I asked. "I'm Duo Maxwell."

"Detective Trant." He flashed me his toothy smile and then flashed it upon my assistant. "Nice to meet you-- both."

Zechs shrugged. "Zechs." He marched off and had the back of the van open with a forceful bang was picking through a few tools stashed at the side.

"Where's your partner?" I was thinking of "helmet head" from the last time.

"He's here in the car. We have an onboard computer for looking up the car ID." Trant leaned closer to my ear and lowered his voice. "He's a little squeamish when it comes to bugs in bodies."

"Who isn't?" I asked, and then trotted over to our van. "Zechs? Something wrong?"

He was busy setting up the cot. "You were right about the man being attracted to me, and I don't find it flattering." He sighed and straightened to look at me. The guy towered nearly a foot over my head. "I had hoped you were wrong. I have received unwanted attention before."

"The sooner we got this done, the sooner we're gone, then," I pointed out sounding a bit miffed.

I would have found attention like that to be fucking flattering. I was short with brown hair and rather ordinary everything else. Next to Mr. Tall, Rich, and Suave I practically disappeared. Another thing to like about Heero. He was just perfect for me. Just the right height, dark, gorgeous as Hell, but not the head-turner Zechs was. Zechs could walk into a room and it was as if he blasted everyone with a stun gun. Heero killed them slowly nailing a guy with his dead-on eyes until the blood slowly drained…

"Duo? Do you know what has to be done to extract the body?"

"Yeah, I've done this kind of thing before. So, ah, do you have a special girl?"

"Girlfriend? Yes, her name is Lucrezia Noin. Familiar?"

Oh yeah… publicist extraordinaire. She created stars; she created Solo's onstage persona. I don't know if Zechs knew that. There was no reason he should associate me with Solo because we were discrete. "I've heard of her, yes. No shrinking violet, that one."

"Not, not at all."

The conversation left me feeling uneasy. With as few words as possible, Zechs and I scooted a plastic sheet underneath the burnt body, wrapped it protectively so as not to scrape the crisp skin on the door, and jostled the corpse onto the cot. Leaving my helper to strap in the body, I examined the backseat for any further crime evidence. I found a few 'somethings' and slipped them into zip-lock style bags.

A rumble of distant thunder echoed about the hills in the remote area.

"We have a tow truck on the way to haul in the car. We want to go over it back in town," the officer told me.

"Good. I was looking for fried larvae beneath the body," I explained as he straightened up.

"What for?" He appeared more than ready to just go home and call it a night.

"Snacks!" I joked and turned away only after catching the man's face blanch. "Crispy critters. Here, catch!"

The officer, expecting a handful of 'treats', threw up his hands to ward them off, missing the bagged knife, which fell to the ground at his feet. At the same moment, the sky lit up with a crack of lightning, followed by a rumbling of thunder. Impressive dramatic timing on my part.

"Make sure they test the blood on the backseat, burned as it is, and that knife for fingerprints."

Zechs locked down the cot in the van and secured the tools.

"I'll lead you out," Trant said, trotting over to his car. "I need to direct the tow truck."

"Hope you get out before the storm hits and washes the evidence off the car," I said.

"Let's not waste any time," the officer nodded, and cranked on his engine.

"Duo, what did you say to the investigator?" Zechs asked me once we were on the way back to the funeral home.

"Nothing personal," I said to make sure he knew I wasn't the type to get between a gay man and his target, even if the target was a straight male. I told him about my crispy critters joke.

"That was tasteless."

"Well, Detective Trant, the tall, sandy-haired police inspector? He is supposed to be a professional, or should have been. He had to have known what I was doing. He should have been looking there as well but was too lazy to do his work."

"So, what were you looking for?"

"Oh, I was looking for larvae, fresh or fried, like I said, but that was because after I found the knife under the seat and the dark stain on the cloth seat where the body had been I figured that the man hadn't died in a car wreck." I didn't mention the most disturbing detail that I had noticed, which was the wolf canine design carved into the hilt of the dagger.

"I noticed that the car appeared to be in good condition, despite being burned," Zechs mused. "It didn't appear to have been in a wreck."

"Yeah, that should have set off a few alarms in their heads, too. You are very perceptive."

"I am," he said with a suave smile. "So, you were saying about the larvae?"

"I looked for them. I figured that if he had been lying out there in the open for long, a few might have started to grow. Or… maybe the fire happened right after he was murdered, before he could have attracted flies."

"They'll go after cooked flesh or raw, but it might help us determine a time of death back at the shop." Zechs said, remaining composed, concentrating fully on the road ahead.

It started to rain as we turned into the mortuary driveway.

Trowa moaned when we brought in another "poor condition" corpse to autopsy, but I knew it was all for show. The man loved a challenge. "I am both repelled and fucking curious about what we might find."

See?

He helped Zechs move the blackened cadaver onto the table. When he peeled back bits of the clothing, Both he Zechs let out disgusted groans, "Ugh!"

Live maggots crawled across the surface of the body, but when they removed the top of the skull, they found cooked maggots inside the brain. This was a significant discovery. It meant that the victim had been dead long enough for flies to leave larvae, for maggots to grow and eat away much of the decaying outer tissue and enter the braincase.

Zechs teased out a few of the larvae, and then moved them with tweezers to a Petri dish for closer examination. "By comparing the length and weight of the maggots inside the brain with my own charts of maggot development," he said, giving his own commentary as he did the work, "I conclude...yes... that the maggots had died between 14 and 16 days after the victim himself was killed. Put that together with the maggots outside the body-- that Duo collected along with the knife, which I determined to be approximately 2 days old-- and we have one unusual case."

"Look closely at these," Trowa said, pointing out scores and scratches on the spine to Zechs.

"Those marks look like incisions."

"Yeah, Duo, take a look. You agree? These look like cuts on the vertebrae," Trowa called to me.

"Yes, from all my extensive experience with stabbing victims." I could be sarcastic, too. Most the bodies that came my way were due to injuries or illnesses. Homicide victims were the least common. "He was stabbed hard for the bone to be marked that badly."

I paced the room, picking up a couple o-fuda that had detached and pocketing them. "Okay, then based on this evidence, I think we can reconstruct what happened. The man was murdered with one or more knife stabs, and left in the back seat. The knife I found might have been the murder weapon or one he pulled in defense. Lab analysis should tell. Some two weeks later the people, or person, who did it came back and set fire to the car, maybe in the hope of getting rid of the corpse, or creating the impression he had died in an automobile accident. The fire went out, and the body cooled enough for the flies to come back and lay more eggs on the burnt material."

"Sounds plausible." Trowa turned to Zechs who was fiddling around with the larva under the microscope. "When you get done over there, would you see what you can come up with from the clothing?"

He had cleaned the cot and stowed it, along with fresh supplies, back in the van. With time to kill and nothing else to do, he liked to study the insects. I liked his determination and good nature, considering what a snooty high-brow he could be. He readily agreed to shift through the burnt 'pockets' and tease out the contents.

"Got it! I believe I've found a piece of ID," he said, wiggling a needle-pointed tool in the air. "Driver's license, but not Sanc, from somewhere else."

I heard a gasp and bounded over. "What?"

"No, not a driver's license, but something equally good. Our man is from OZ Penitentiary and Asylum."

"An inmate?" Trowa asked. "I didn't think anyone broke out from that hell-hole."

"No one ever has, and neither did this man. This was an employee." Zechs frowned and moved to the computer. "I have a little work to do here, so if you'd all leave me alone a minute, I'd be most appreciative. I'd like to use the phone too, if I might? I have contacts with OZ."

"Sure thing. Be my guest." I made a wide sweeping gesture and turned to Trowa. "Let's finish this baby up and give our man Chang a jingle. Oh, yeah. He's going to join Preventers. Hilde called with the news."

Zechs had been on the phone to his contact on OZ island compound, looking into the dead employee's history. The contact was more than willing to supply him with the latest passwords to the Asylum and penitentiary's databases. Of course, he hadn't told her exactly why. In fact, from what I overheard, he had given the contact an entirely false excuse.

"Preventers? That's a prestigious job. I would like to meet this up and coming investigator friend of yours. Can you invite him over?" Zechs asked.

"Sure, if he's game."

"Soon." After looking up the information he needed, Zechs returned to the phone to report to Detective Chang what he had learned and what they suspected. He was going over the details leading up to their conclusions on the time and cause of death, when Trowa rolled in with the next body.

From that point on, everyone worked in silence. We each knew what had to be done, and didn't have time to waste.

There was one brief interruption when Trowa called me over for a second opinion. After some discussion, we reached an agreement and questioned Zechs on his stomach findings.

"He must have swallowed the entire bottle. I counted 245 pills in his stomach and the label indicated that the bottle contained 250 originally."

"Really?" I was puzzled a moment. "Plus the three lodged in his air passage and the few fragments in his mouth. That would account for all of them."

"They couldn't have poisoned him, then. He hadn't even ingested them." Trowa could do the math as well.

"Let me look over that windpipe again," I said.

Zechs helped Trowa mop up and then Trowa hung the clipboard back on its hook and announced, "That's it for tonight."

"There's probably still the stuff we had to do when we got here," I pointed out.

"Oh there is plenty left to do, but no time to do it." Trowa met my eyes. "It's late. We keep bringing in more work, but the shift stays the same. Something's got to give."

"I'll advertise for an embalmer. That shouldn't be too hard to find."

"That might be enough." Trowa ripped off his gloves and loped to the changing room. "If we keep with the crime scene work, we'll need a pathologist better than me."

"So, isn't a pathologist a kind of doctor? You're not an MD, are you?" Zechs asked him.

"No, just a technician with a PhD. However, Duo can tell you the difference between an internist, a surgeon and a pathologist." He grinned and at that moment Zechs knew that he just set himself up for one of my jokes.

"Duo?"

"Go ahead, Tro' you tell that one."

"Okay," he leaned against the wall, looking down either to hide or collect his thoughts. He did both frequently. "So an internist knows everything, but actually does nothing; a surgeon knows nothing, but, as it turns out, does everything; a pathologist knows everything and does everything, but, sadly, too late."

Zechs burst out into laughter.

"I have a story related to that, if you are interested?" Trowa asked with a shy smile.

The tall blonde nodded and wiped his glittering eyes. "Please, go ahead."

"I call it the Doc Hunters." He paused again long enough to get the story straight in his mind, and make sure he had everyone's attention. "Okay, so a group of doctors went out duck hunting. They hadn't been waiting very long before a bird flew toward their blind."

"You know what a 'blind' is, don't you? A camouflaged spot from which they observe their quarry?"

"Yes, Duo, I know that. I hunt. Go on," he urged.

Well, it had been a stopper for me. I never hunted that way.

"Well, the general practitioner got ready to shoot, but then turned to the others and said, 'It's what I've heard a duck should look like, but I'm not sure. You specialists have more experience with this -- what do you think?'

"But by that time the bird had flown over and was out of range. Soon another bird flew toward the doctors. The internist, an internal medicine specialist, just to clarify for the purpose of this story, prepared to shoot, but then hesitated, thinking 'It's probably a duck, but I should do some tests to rule out whether it's a goose or pigeon or seagull.'

"By which time that bird, too, had flown over and was gone. A bit later, another bird approached. Showing no hesitation, the surgeon stood up and blast several rounds with his shotgun. The bird plummeted into the marsh some distance from the hunting party. The surgeon turned to the pathologist, asking, 'What are you waiting for? Get out there and find out what the fuck that was.'"

Zechs laughed along with Trowa. "That was awful. Where do you come up with your material?"

"Mostly the bathroom walls at pool halls," Trowa said. "It was the only place I ever read for enjoyment. The rest of the time I read chemistry books."

"Bathroom walls, huh? Speaking of 'coarse' material!" I nudged him with an elbow, while he groaned at my pun. "Hey, as fun as this is, I gotta hit the street."

"Later!"

(o)

The next day, Zechs was observing Trowa prepare a cadaver for autopsy when the phone rang. I was at my desk and answered.

"Maxwell's Mortuary and Funeral Home. Yeah? Oh, howya doing, Detective Chang. And congratulations."

Zech's back stiffened and he looked up from the table.

"Is that so? He's sitting right here. I'll put him on for you." I tossed the phone to Zechs with a smile. "He was excited by your info."

Zechs returned the smile and took the phone. He listened and spoke in a low voice. "You are welcome, detective." He turned to us. "I was able to trace the burned stab victim's ID card to his work records."

"You wouldn't mind telling us how you managed that, would you?" Tro asked with a frown.

"I used the computer, but that's not the point," he evaded. "The victim failed to show up for work one morning, and he was listed but not reported missing by his employer, which isn't any real surprise."

"Right and then sometime later—"

"18 days later," Zechs said with his authoritative voice, "the two dirt bikers came across his burned-out car, and then we were called. I passed the dead man's name to the investigation team with the results of our investigative work the other day. They were very grateful."

"So, who was the guy?" Tro asked. He sounded irritated by Zechs, who, I had to admit, seemed amused by the resonance of his own voice, as he drew out the tale.

"Marshal Noventa. I told them that if they looked hard enough they would find evidence to link Marshal Noventa to Dekim's death, say… fingerprints on Dekim's car. I faxed Detective Chang a copy of Marshal Noventa's prints on record at the penitentiary. They keep records of many things there, dental records too."

Trowa stopped what he was doing and asked, "Why would you link this Marshal Noventa guy to Dekim?"

"Something seemed suspicious about him."

"That wasn't an answer." Trowa gave a snort and returned to work.

"I have a nose for trouble?"

"He's not going to tell us," I growled. "And if it has anything to do with that OZ place, you don't really want to know. You'll be safer not knowing."

"That is true. Sorry, but...it's a secret," Zechs said, then turned back to the phone to dial a new number.

"Yeah, well not all of it," Trowa stalked up to Zechs and got in his face. "What else did Chang have to say?"

"He was most excited that Duo pointed out the importance of some mark on the knife."

"Oh? Tell me everything you know about that. The knife was special, wasn't it? As in a ceremonial one."

Zechs hung up the phone looked vexed. "Yes, Trowa, it was a White Fang dagger embossed with their wolf canine insignia. Now you know all what the police knows. Let it rest."

But Trowa looked alarmed. "White Fang. That's a clan destabilizing OZ."

"Yes, I know. I am their leader. And with that information, I place my life in your hands," Zechs said.

* * *

End Chapter 11

TBC in Chapter 12 -- September Leaves


	12. September Leaves, part 1

**Greeting Cards**

This is an on-going story arc, based on Heero's greeting cards, and updated monthly, at least.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

**Warnings:** AU, male/male pairings, language, some embalming and autopsies topics covered.

A/N: Duo's silly jokes aren't mine. Modifications from internet jokesters

**Chapter 12 --**

**September Leaves,** **Part 1**

* * *

**From the previous chapter:**

"So, who was the guy?" Trowa asked. He sounded irritated by Zechs, who, I had to admit, seemed amused by the resonance of his own voice, as he drew out the tale.

"Marshal Noventa. I told them that if they looked hard enough they would find evidence to link Marshal Noventa to Dekim's death, say… fingerprints on Dekim's car. I faxed Detective Chang a copy of Marshal Noventa's prints on record at the penitentiary. They keep records of many things there, dental records too."

Trowa stopped what he was doing and asked, "Why would you link this Marshal Noventa guy to Dekim?"

"Something seemed suspicious about him."

"That wasn't an answer." Trowa gave a snort and returned to work.

"I have a nose for trouble?"

"He's not going to tell us," I growled. "And if it has anything to do with that OZ place, you don't really want to know. You'll be safer not knowing."

"That is true. Sorry, but...it's a secret," Zechs said, then turned back to the phone to dial a new number.

"Yeah, well not all of it," Trowa stalked up to Zechs and got in his face. "You know more and it affects me. What else did Chang have to say?"

"He was most excited that Duo pointed out the importance of some mark on the knife."

"Oh? Tell me everything you know about that. The knife was special, wasn't it? As in a ceremonial one."

Zechs hung up the phone looked vexed. "Yes, Trowa, it was a White Fang dagger embossed with their wolf canine insignia. Now you know all the police knows. Let it rest."

But Trowa looked alarmed. "White Fang. That's a clan destabilizing OZ."

"Yes, I know. I am their leader. And with that information, I place my life in your hands," Zechs said.

(o) **And now:**

While Trowa and I wrapped our heads around that interesting fact, the phone chimed in. His eyes and mine riveted on the phone while Zechs summarized his position with the words, "Now you know more than what the police know. Let it rest."

Another ring and I shifted my glare onto Zechs, but he didn't look like he was going to answer the phone three inches from his elbow, the lazy ass.

Trowa continued to brazen out his stance. I'd never seen the man so confrontational. Even before the ring faded he practically snarled, "You know more. You know why Dekim Barton was killed, don't you? DON'T YOU?!"

"I can't say—"

Ring number three. One more and the answering system would click in.

"It may be a clue to what happened to me!" Trowa insisted.

"Excuse me, guys..." _I_ picked up the call. "Hello, Maxwell's Mortuary and Funeral Home. May I help you?"

My eyes snagged Zechs' and held onto those steely grey-blue orbs. I liked dark eyes better. Heero's in particular.

"Yes, where did you say the deceased is? Got it. Thank you. Goodnight." I hung up and side-stepped Trowa. "Sorry, but it's time to roll. Zechs, I think you can handle this one on your own while I help Trowa with the backlog. We are up to our elbows in embalming."

Zechs winced. I guess I hadn't described a very pretty picture.

"Sure, he can go, but we _will_ discuss this later," Trowa assured him.

But the later wouldn't come that night. He and I had a long night's worth of work to do, while Zechs ultimately delivered three additional bodies-- two from private residences and one from a retirement home. None of the new incoming corpses were 'intriguing' enough to displace the ones already slated to be embalmed that night, so they were 'processed', tagged, and stored in the cadaver keep for the next shift.

By the end of the day, we were beat. All we wanted to do was to take our divergent routes to our dissimilar homes.

"And I have a couple calls to make for the embalming-assistant job," I said. I hoped to smooth out Trowa's atypical prickliness.

He seemed to back off a tad and even offered some help. "If you like, I'd ask a couple friends back at the hospital labs where I was working before? Lots of unhappy workers over there that might like the change; might not, too, but I could ask around?" Trowa even blessed me with a casual shrug and half-done smile.

"Yeah, that would be great, thanks."

(o)

I was happy to get home that night. I wanted to eat, shower, and call Heero. In that order. Did that happen? No, of course not. One bite into a PB and J with a side car of cheese whiz, the phone rang. I let the message system take it until I caught the caller's name.

"Miss Peacecraft, er… Relena?" Were we on first-name basis? I guessed so.

"Duo!" Okay…

"I am so pleased you are home. I have the best news; well, I think it's fun."

"Fun, huh? Okay…" Beware the 'fun' attachment to a proposition like you'd shun a suspicious email one in your inbox. Normally I would have, but this was a princess!

"It's a play and we need bodies…"

_Bodies?! Vampire alert!_ I wondered if I should warn Heero about the possibility that his housemates were of the undead, but decided to forgo that discussion. He would think I was more, what was it he called me once? _Baka_. Yeah. He would call me _baka_ _superior_ if I carried on like that. Still…

I nearly missed what Relena Von Bodysnatcher was telling me.

"… and Dorothy caught part of Trowa and Quatre's séance and just knew you were all actors, well she knows Heero's the arty type and my brother is game to do his part. It's really not much. All you have to do is go down to the playhouse and read for the parts on Sunday."

"A play? You already talk to Heero about this?" I'll bet not.

"Well, I could; I tried, but he's not answering his door."

Not to you. "I'll call him. So, what's the play about?"

"I'm not sure."

"Did you know that cockroaches can live for nine days without their heads, at which point they die of starvation?" I asked.

The silence was tomb-like. I used the break in the conversation to finish my sandwich.

"No. I didn't know that. Um. So, I can count on you and Heero for the play? I'm calling Quatre next. I'm sure he'll be excited."

"He's rather busy."

"Aren't we all? Which reminds me of the other important request I must make."

"What's that?" I should have been more wary.

"I am arranging an art opening for Heero and understand you have several originals."

"You do?"

"No, YOU do."

Like voodoo, heh, heh... To avoid the conversation from becoming silly, I asked, "What originals? Not that I'm aware of."

"He was hand painting a card when I, ah, interrupted him. He said it was for you and that he had been creating them all year long for you."

"Oh, the greeting cards. Yeah, well, they are pretty personal."

"And they'd stay that way. I only want the art. They wouldn't be damaged."

"I—"

"Think about it, won't you? I'll be in touch. You have a cell number?"

To prove I'm an idiot, I gave her my cell phone number.

"Thank you so much! See you on Sunday. I'll leave a message about the time. Bye!"

Had I agreed? To anything? I didn't recall saying I'd be in some play. I know I didn't okay Heero's art, besides, she'd have to break into my apartment to get at it. Still, that was how I got roped into being in a play, and getting to talk Heero into joining me. Oh, joy.

I made another PB and J and downed a beer. Time to go shopping for food…and TP… and toothpaste. Time for everything, except just me and Heero. Well, not this weekend. Something was going to happen in that department, I was sure and determined to make it so.

As I stepped from the shower my phone was ringing like crazy, and this time it was my guy.

"'Ro!"

"Duo, are you all right? You sound like you've been running."

"From the shower to the bed, that's all. God, I _miss_ you."

"Me, too. I thought about you all day, and now I'll be thinking of you naked and wet and sprawled on your bed...breathless…"

"Heh, heh… Well, I thought of you between dead bodies at work today. I got in visions of you and me...ah…" Oooh, that sounded bad, but 'Ro, he never missed a beat. He got the gist of what I meant.

"Run away with me Friday?"

"Done." I could be decisive.

"Ha! You don't even know where I'm taking you."

"Doesn't matter. I'm yours for the taking." God, was that trite?

Heero laughed, though. "Zechs gave me… an idea. I chose the place based on that."

Ugh. Even his thoughts cost more than I could afford. "Too pricey already."

"Only gas money."

Oh. Oh?

"Zodiac Island. Ever hear of it? You'll learn a little about my past."

"Sounds familiar. And intriguing as that is, I'd rather have you here, now. Present tense."

I could hear his sigh, soft and near, but not near enough. "Yeah. I miss you. So it's a 'yes'?"

Which got us back to the beginning.

"Yeah, it's a date, which means I've gotta set some gears in motion. Get coverage for the business. Can I call you back?"

"As long as you do. I want to fall asleep with the sound of your voice beside me."

God, was that romantic? "I want _you _beside me, not this phone."

"Hurry back," he whispered and then hung up.

My hands moved like lightening, punching in the next set of numbers by heart.

_Hurry, hurry, hurry back. _

It was late, but I knew the neighboring mortuary ran a graveyard shift. They never shut down. And they said they'd be happy to cover for us while I had a short vacation. Too happy. I knew they were hoping I'd shut down and they could expand into Sanc territory. No way.

Next, I called Trowa to inform him of the three-day vacation and see what he thought about the play practice on Sunday. The line was busy, but on the third try I got him.

"_Three_ days? That's cool. I thought I'd take Quatre out on a road trip. Put some miles on the new bike. L4 has some chillin' dunes." I could hear him drifting, probably riding a dune in his mind-- heh, riding something for sure. Or someone. I gave him a moment to land. "Yeah. Timing's perfect. Thanks, dude."

"No problemo. So, ah, you in on the play thing?"

"Shit." Trowa let out his breath through his teeth. "Just got the news, like right before you called. Quatre's excited. I'd rather drive my bike over a cliff, but…yeah, I'll do it, ya know?"

Oh, I knew. Anything for love, or lust, whichever. "Yeah… You know anything about the roles or the play? What it's called?"

"Nada, boss man. Oh, and sorry about today. Zechs just ticks me off. Not knowing what I've lost is frustrating. He knows all my buttons and pushes them hard. Um, three contacts from the hospital messaged me for a job interview, if you want them?"

"Send the numbers. We can do interviews over the next couple days and get one or two on board."

"Two? You can afford two?"

"One will quit. Odds are guaranteed one will hate it and quit inna week."

Trowa chuckled and gave me the numbers, and then we signed off in better spirits than when we'd parted after work. I looked over my list of potential new employees I kept on my computer. Occasionally a resume would float in or an old mate from L2 would pass along a work history. I found a particularly likely choice. Another one of Howard's minions flying the coop.

I placed my calls, lined up interviews, marked the schedule so I wouldn't forget the next day, and then I called Heero.

"'Lo."

"Hello, Duo. Done for the night?"

"Not with you. _Work_ is done."

We—or _I_-- jabbered on about nothing in particular until I brought the conversation around to the play.

Heero did not take the news as smoothly as Trowa. "Relena _and_ Dorothy?" He sounded completely overwhelmed by the odds. "They want me… _us_… in a play. For what possible reason? I am no actor."

"Nor I or Trowa or Quatre. I don't know if Zechs can add that to his list of achievements, but he's in on it too. These have gotta be bit parts. She knows we haven't time to spare for rehearsals more than once or twice."

"I could do more. My time is less cluttered. But to _act_? I'm not a performer. I – I don't know what to do."

I could feel his torment through the phone and wanted to hold him and ease his worries. "Hey, don't worry. We'll go Sunday and get the scoop. If it stinks, we leave. Just because Dorothy Catalonia can't dig up enough friends to put on her play, doesn't mean we gotta pitch in."

"Why not come over. Now?"

"Uhhh… God, I want to 'Ro, believe me. If I could move off my bed I'd do it, but then I gotta get up _early_ to do job interviews for more help, and there's loads, actual loads of work to do in order to free up Friday."

"I…know." Heero sighed. "I am being selfish. I nearly thought to go to your apartment, but then … I wouldn't let you sleep at all."

"Not at all?" Wouldn't _that_ fire up my imagination like crazy?!

"Not… a moment."

"Oh…"

"I want you that badly."

"Fuck…"

"If you want me, I am yours."

Man, I couldn't wait until Friday. 'Ro and me on an island. Yummy. "Eh, so what have you got in mind?" I don't know what I expected him to say, not what he did, that's for sure.

"Then," there was silence on the line followed by some rustling of cloth, "I'll have to jerk off thinking about your nice fat cock. Imagining touching it and seeing it get hard, sucking it until you come in my mouth."

Oh…

"Almost," he whispered.

God.

"I stop when I feel your balls draw close to your body and your sac toughens and wrinkles…"

Goose bumps ran up and down my body and I couldn't have suppressed a moan if I'd had to.

"I taste your nipples until they are hard, and when I pinch one of them, you start coming all over the fucking place." I heard him breathing. "Touch yourself now. Are you hard?"

"Fuck, yes."

He chuckled. "My mouth is open…"

"Ah! I'm…" I shot one spurt of cum on my neck, and the rest shot over my belly. "Fuck, Heero!"

"If I were there, I'd scoop up some of your cum and taste it. It would taste like… like warm milk. Then, I'd start again."

"Oh…" My hand was a sticky mess and _he _was starting _again_.

"I'd start with my hands slowly stroking you until you were fully hard. Then before you had any second thoughts I'd lick your erection from the base to the tip and back and forth a couple of times. Then when I came back up to the tip I'd put my mouth around it and go all the way down, swallowing you whole."

My body trembled and I could hear him panting—no, that was _me_ doing the panting, or both of us! I was getting my first over-the-phone head. My hand was on my dick and pumping with his words.

"…back and forth taking as much of you as I can until I feel your hand go on the back of my head and lightly try to pull me off."

"S-slow down," I said. I gasped, totally into his game.

"I slow down like you want. I go back to the base and then up to the top one more time-- then I pause and look into your eyes. What do I see, do you think?"

"Blue? Er… More?"

"I see was the look of lust in your eyes as you are out of breath. That's when I kiss you passionately. Unable to control myself, I latch onto you and my hand finishes the job that I had started."

"Oh, yeah, b-babe."

"I can hear you falling short of breath, and your body begins to shake.

"Oh baby I am going to cum," I told him, "a-again! God… damn!"

"That's right, Duo, love, blow it," his soft voice urged me. He had finished giving me all the quick pleasure he could.

I stroked faster as my whole body tensed up. And right on cue I shot out onto my hand and over my chest, another layer to mix with the first. I was wasted. My eyes were rolling in the back of my head.

"And then I give you a deep kiss. Goodnight."

Oh, yeah… that had been just amazing. 'Course, my sheets were a mess and I'd just done the wash and I'd need a shower, but that could wait till morning. "'Night, babe."

(o)

It was the late afternoon; both Trowa and Zechs were sitting at my desk taking a coffee break. We got to talking about the play, compared notes on a couple of prospective new employees we had interviewed, and mused upon taking a few days off work to vacation a bit, when I received a call from an investigating official.

"Tro', guess what?"

"I couldn't possibly."

Trowa was wholly occupied stacking cubes of sugar into fascinating structures. Zechs was playing Tetris on the computer. The coffeemaker gurgled and discharged fresh sludge.

"We are being hauled into court."

"Huh?"

That had gotten Trowa to react. It was a very satisfactory sensation, stirring things up a bit. "One of the bodies we brought in and autopsied is part of an ongoing investigation and we are being called in to testify."

"Does that happen often?" Zechs asked.

Trowa knocked over a tower of cubes and started another.

"No, but every so often we get called to testify in court or at inquests as expert witnesses."

"I see."

Trowa sighed. "Great. Who is included in that 'we'? Not me, surely. I don't know anything of value."

"Of course you do, but that's not the point. I need you to back me up, to make certain I don't leave anything out on the stand."

Trowa knocked over his sugar wall. "Fine. Another shot day."

"It's part of work, so that means we will have the day off, and we'll just blow off Friday, too, while we're at it, giving us a long weekend. You mentioned going to the dunes of L4."

"Nova in L3." He shot a look at Zechs. "Minor change. So what?"

"Don't we have that play practice to do?"

"Not until Sunday late." Zechs smiled. "I made certain I didn't have to get up early on Sunday, or you."

"Uh, huh," Trowa grunted. I don't think he believed Zechs was looking out for any of our best interests.

"Better busy than bored," I said with a smile. "I'll pull the file from the autopsy, check over the notes from that examination, and get prepared tonight."

The front door buzzed and I hopped over the desk and made a run for it. We so rarely had visitors _walk_ in.

"Hello?" It was a pretty young woman.

"I'm Catherine bloom, Trowa's sister. Is it possible for me to see him?"

"Sure. I'm Duo Maxwell, proprietor." I smiled and shook hands. "Just follow me. I'll see if he can make a break from his building project."

I led her down the hall, through the doors and rooms separating the public from the reality behind the screen, and popped my head into the operating room.

"Trowa, visitor for you," I whispered a bit too theatrically, "And it's a _girl_."

Zechs drew a cloth over the exposed corpse on the table and smoothed his hair for our guest.

Trowa's ear tips burned. "Who? Oh, hi."

"What are you building?" Her eyes flitted around the room, taking in the fluttering post-its and avoiding the operating slabs.

"Building?" He must have realized he was parroting her, knocked over his sugar tower, stood and smiled. "No, that was my boss being funny, or at least trying to. I thought you were rock climbing."

I pretended not to listen in and filled four mugs with a Sumatra brew.

"I'm heading out in a few minutes. But, I, ah, needed to talk to you first."

We let him do the honors and introduce us. Catherine was his half-sister or cousin or both and a close friend of Sally Po's, Wufei's ex.

Zechs overdid it with a deep bow, flourish, and kiss to her hand, "Enchanted."

Catherine blushed scarlet. "Um, me, too."

Trowa cleared his throat and she turned to him, as if remembering her errand again. "It's personal. We should go somewhere…private."

"'S'okay. These dudes are chill. I don't mind them hearing."

"Oh, well, okay. If you say so." She handed him a paper. "Look at this."

I looked over his shoulder, snoop that I was. I could read some names and dates.

"This is my birth date," Trowa said. "That's my father's name. Bloom. I don't know this name but it's close to my mother's. What's this about?"

"I was at lunch with Sally Po the other day and I mentioned the problem we were having getting any information much less any real documentation on your past. She has access to the records and filing rooms, and promised to see what she could find. You were at the hospital after your injury. They had to have more than nothing on you. She was curious about you. I think she liked you when you worked there and was sorry when you left. She really wanted to help. And--"

She looked at Trowa who wore a scowl on his face and had folded his arms across his chest defensively.

"I maybe should have asked your permission first, but... That was information taken off your birth certificate. Susanne Medina was listed as _your_ mother's name and Zodiac Island was _your_ birth place."

Trowa met her eyes for a moment and dropped his arms to his sides to prop himself up on my desk. He appeared stunned.

"It wasn't what had been put on the admittance form which had been filled out at the hospital—you know, after your accident. She doesn't know who brought you in and supplied that misinformation."

Zechs inhaled loudly, but Trowa cut him off and spoke first. "My mother's maiden name was Medina? What the hell kind of a name is that anyway? Duo, what do you think?"

"Why would that be on a copy of your birth certificate if it wasn't true?"

Zechs just stared at him then Catherine alternatively.

"It looked like a real birth certificate, Trowa. It had all kinds of official-looking seals and stamps and all the right signatures and stuff," she said.

Zechs put in, "Have you other relatives you can ask?"

"No," Trowa answered. "I can't e-mail the dead and ask them. Just Catherine here."

"Then...let's call your Aunty Maple. Didn't you say she ran a golf course?" I asked with a creeping note of desperation in my voice.

"What?" He looked at me as if I were apeshit nuts. So did everyone else for that matter. I began to makeup anything to divert the tension. "That was Aunty Maple's money-losing, combination golf course/graveyard, the Golfatorium. Ah..."

"Give it up, Duo." Trowa snapped. "Some dark secret is being kept from us all. I don't like that."

Zechs suddenly stood up. "I believe it's time to pay Zodiac Island a visit."

He looked straight at me. All kinds of lights went on in my head. Heero had said he was taking me to Zodiac Island. Zechs put him up to it or at least encouraged the idea. What was with the place?

"I want to go with you," Trowa said. "That's where the penitentiary and asylum are."

"Huh?" That's where my Romantic Getaway was going to be!

At that point I started to wonder why I didn't know anything about the place, and then recalled telling Heero I didn't care. Well, I still didn't. That's where we were going and I didn't want these clowns to get in my way.

"I'll think about it," Zechs said.

Noooooooo! It was _my_ Romantic Getaway spot, my amorous escape haven. No Zechs! No Trowa! Just 'Ro an' me! Save my Romantic Getaway!

"It may be more valuable for you to stay here and check on other information for me. You can go later. Ahhh, anyway, it's time to go to work and I need to change into a jumpsuit, so if you all will excuse me..."

"I'm sorry, Trowa. I didn't mean to mess things up like this."

"It's okay, Catherine," Trowa said and sounded as if he meant it. "I'm glad you did." He must have been beyond traumatized; he was without words to say more, and, when she rushed over to give him a reassuring hug, he returned it.

(o)

It was unusual getting up on a weekday morning, dressing, and heading off to the courthouse, but we did, all three of us. Zechs drove the hearse, Trowa in back and me riding shotgun, enjoying that the sun was out and the day warming beneath it.

We had been riding to the courthouse in silence, thus the need for a joke to break up the mood.

"Did you know that in Erwin, Tennessee an elephant was once hanged for murder?" Yep, I was lightening things up.

Trowa wore a tranquil smile on his face, which was not what I expected even if I was the one called on to testify. He should have been a nervous wreck never having gone to court and having his past smack him in the face yesterday. He should have been a nervous wreck, clenching and relaxing his fists repeatedly.

"You don't seem nervous at all," I remarked.

"That's because I'm not. You look pretty cool, too."

"I've done this before, as I've said. I know how it works. All I have to do is think of it as a game where I am the winner if I make my own rules instead of playing by the lawyer's."

I had reviewed the file of data the day before to refresh my and my co-workers' memories, so I knew we were prepared. All Trowa and Zechs had to do was sit, listen, and be ready to step in just in case I needed substantiation.

Zechs cleared his throat. "It's a case with insurance company interests at stake, Duo, and those of the kid's family. Where there's money involved it's serious, and you should treat it that way."

He had used this argument already, and I had laughed him off that time, too. He was the uneasy one, and I guess 'cause I was in such a good mood, that he found it helped to take it out on me—badger me.

As it turned out, I was right; it was merely a stage for one of my comedy routines. I had a magical touch to get other people to play into my hands, and this was just another instance.

I took the witness stand in the 'expert witness' capacity. The lawyer representing the insurance company was a complete stranger, which was good because then he wouldn't suspect anything.

"Mr. Maxwell, before you signed the death certificate, had you taken the pulse?"

I shook his head slightly, an enigmatic smile plastered upon my face. "No."

"No?" The lawyer asked in mock surprise, "Did you listen to the heart?"

"No."

The lawyer really must have been satisfied with his line of questioning, because he continued to press, "Did you check for breathing?

"No."

Oh, yeah. This guy was certain he'd found a way to discredit me. The lawyer wiped off his smug expression and put on his best you-are-seriously-incompetent face. "So, when you signed the death certificate you weren't sure he was dead, were you?"

But I was not to be outmaneuvered by this weasel. I knew how to work this line of questioning to my benefit. "Well, let me put it this way," I answered. "The man's brain was sitting in a jar on my desk. But I guess it's possible he could be out there practicing law somewhere."

When the laughter died down at the bequest of the judge. I motioned that I wanted to speak again. "Actually, my assistant, Trowa Barton, ascertained that the victim was dead- that's his signature below mine on the death certificate- before moving him to the morgue. Then I did the cause of death determination."

The lawyer sighed, defeated. "And what were your conclusions?"

"This man, the deceased, attempted suicide with pills. He thought he would swallow them, but he was so excited that he poured the last of them down 'the wrong throat' and choked to death." I leaned forward, smiled, and added, "It is up to you lawyers to argue whether this makes it a suicide or an accident."

The judge hid a smile behind a hand. "You may step down, Mr. Maxwell. You are excused and may go home now, thank you. I call for a three-hour adjournment. I would like to see the prosecutor and the lawyer for the defense to see me in closed session."

"That was ridiculous," Trowa told me, "but it was quick and painless."

Zechs shook his head. "How that judge let you get away with that, I don't know."

"He loves me, what can I say? I gave him a discount on his wife's burial package and with all the money he saved he took his mistress on a nice vacation."

My buddies did not believe me, I don't think. "It's true! I don't lie! Oh heck, doesn't matter. We got the rest of today off now to start our long weekend," I said, stretching my arms.

Zechs backed out of the parking space, while I hummed a jaunty tune. I continued in this good mood as he drove us all out of the courthouse parking lot.

"I need to stop at the ATM over there for some cash, 'kay?"

This was fine with everyone since they could use some as well. And then I got an idea. I was in a good mood and needed to release it. Do something silly. And I was in no particular rush. In fact, I let Trowa and Zechs proceed and was last to make my transaction. Moreover, as other customers got in line, I passed up my own turn and let them jump in front of me.

"Thanks!" said one happy woman with a baby in a backpack.

"Come on, Duo, let's go!" Trowa urged me along after a bit.

"Oh, no..." Zechs moaned. "I think it's another Duo entertainment moment."

"What's up?" Trowa asked me.

"Just improving my odds; that's all," I said with merriment in my voice and a twinkle, I'm sure, in my eye.

This explanation only served to make Zechs more curious. Got him! Time to take my turn. I stepped up to the ATM machine, punched in my code, and waited with a smile on my face. The metal cash slot opened with a clink, revealing a pile of twenties. I grabbed the wad of twenties in a fist and hopped up and down screaming, "I won! I won! Third time this week!"

This stunt left everyone around me bewildered. I broke into hysterics as I stumbled back to our car. Okay, so I was letting off a little steam. It had been a long intense week with a court appearance to end it and I had been nervous. The relief was making me crazy.

"What did I tell you?" Zechs groaned.

"You see him do pull this crap before?" Trowa asked.

"No." Zechs chuckled.

"Quatre mentioned his weird antics," Trowa said. "I thought he was exaggerating. Guess not."

"No. The man is as crazy as that artist he hangs out with. Yuy."

I sighed and patted my chest over my heart and Zechs laughed. "And queer," he added. "Where can I drop you, Trowa?"

"My apartment. Going to change clothes and get a head start on my vacation."

Zechs pulled up to the building and double parked.

"Later, dudes," Trowa waved. "Don't let the wolves eat you!"

"Same goes for you, and remember: you can just say no!" I said jokingly, but with a touch of serious intent as well.

Zechs started up his car again. "Next stop?"

"The palace."

"Thought so."

We pulled the hearse up to the Peacecraft residence where Zechs, Relena, and Heero lived. "Stay here and I'll have Heero out in just a minute." Zechs told me. He patted the car seat and marched off in the direction of his private back entrance.

"Fine." I was happy to wait and avoid running into any family. It wasn't that I wished to avoid any confrontations; those I loved. I was simply in a good mood and didn't want to have to explain a thing to anyone, especially Relena.

My peaceful moment, basking in the sun while leaning against his car, was disturbed by the loud roar of a powerful engine. A stranger was behind the wheel of the car tearing up the driveway and spun, crossing the path and blocking my exit.

I made no effort to move. I watched as the man about his age, maybe older, with rugged good looks climbed out of his vehicle and advanced resolutely my way. There was anger in his every movement, his body language screaming 'this is a man to be reckoned with!' Automatically, my hands fisted up. I couldn't wait.

"You," which the stranger said in a way that sounded more like an animal growl. "You're in the way."

"_Whose_ way?" I asked innocently and made a wide sweeping gesture with my arm. "Plenty of space here, 'cept where you're blocking the exit."

"I ain't stupid. This ain't no work trip, is it? You just wanna get yer pasty hands on Hiro Yuy!"

I didn't like some stranger knowing my business. I straightened and glanced at my hands. I was fair-skinned, but not unhealthy and certainly not pasty. "Actually, I'm just catching a few rays. I'm afraid I don't tan very well."

Two more strides and the stranger was on me, burying his hands in my collar and lifting me off my feet. "Shut your smartass mouth up and listen to what I got to say!"

He raised a fist to my face and slammed it into my jaw before I could answer. Without thinking, I drove a knee upwards into the man's gut and jabbed sideways with an elbow. A trickle of blood dripped from my swelling lip as I ripped free of the larger man's grip and pushed off.

The brute lurched forward, wrenched my arms backwards, and put me into a headlock. "I'm just getting started here."

There was the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked not far from his hip. I croaked out, "Hit me again and you are dead. My business' lawyers will have you so locked up in the court system that you'll lose your job, your...oof!"

I saw a blur of movement and twisted my head around, catching a growl in my ear as Heero appeared and pounded my attacker over the head.

The man released his grip and dropped to the ground, dragging me down with him. "What the fuck!" I gave the limp form a kick as I extricated himself while Heero, I noticed, retrieved the gun, which had rolled into the shrubbery. "What was that for?"

"I was protecting you."

"First of all, I don't need 'protecting'. I can take care of myself. I had that all under control. Second, shouldn't we call the police?"

"He was pulling a gun on you." Heero stood over the man, pointing the gun at the man's head then his heart as if trying to decide where to blast a hole through him first. "He's not a random mugger."

"Think so? I figured that out when the asshole accused me of messing with you. Hell, I'll call Wufei, if you won't.'

"You're bleeding! Here's a hankie."

"Thank you," I held the linen handkerchief to my lip and pressed gently to staunch the flow. "So, you wanna tell me his name and make a guess why he's so damned mad at me? Oh, yeah, hi 'Fei. I was attacked and 'Ro here says it was directed at me on purpose so you wanna… No, we're at the palace. Not far… right. Some vacation, gotcha. So you coming or not? Thanks."

"No."

"No, what?"

"I don't want to tell you who this is, but—"

"No! Oh, ho… wrong, babe."

"But… I will."

"Okay." I gave my attacker another kick when he started to move. "Fei's close. Wanna tell me before he gets here?"

"He works for Ty Keel."

I waited for Heero to gather his wits about him. He looked more flustered than I felt. I said nothing, which under normal circumstances was for me hard, but the numbness in my jaw had warn off and in insistent throbbing was settling in.

"T-Ty," was about all I could manage, and still my gut twisted as I recognized the look of anguish pass across his face as I said that name. I closed the distance between us and took one hand; the other held the gun still. I could squash the pain a little longer and speak. "That was the guy that treated you bad, wasn't it?"

Heero dipped his chin. His eyes never left the prone man. "He was the step-son of Odin Lowe. I was the foster son."

"The name 'Odin Lowe' means nada to me. Brothers?"

"Lovers," Yuy spat. "Without the love."

I squeezed his hand, not understanding completely, but I wanted him to know my heart was with him. I'd had a lover _with _the love and lost him. Which was worse?

Two police officers arrived on foot. They must have been on the beat no further than the front palace gates to get there so quickly. With little fuss, one officer cuffed the assailant and yanked him to his feet while reading him his rights. The other collected the gun from Heero and bagged it. They were waiting for Detective Chang.

Chang whipped his unmarked sedan into the driveway followed by a police car. He moved swiftly with a keen-edged-blade surety, eyes blazing. "Maxwell, he'd better be alive or I'll start thinking you're doing this to drum up business."

"When did you get a sense of humor?" I remarked with a smile. "Nah, he's all right. Dude jumped me, pulled a gun, and 'Ro knocked him out."

"His ID says he's Ed Knute," said an officer holding the assailant's wallet.

"Works for Ty Keel," Heero put in.

Wufei's eyes slid from Heero to the ID. "Another one of Keel's thugs? Ever since they brought in Sidney Green, I've been hoping to put away one of these hoods." His eyes remained riveted on Heero.

I squeezed 'Ro's hand. I think he'd forgotten I was still holding it because he shivered and looked at me with a question in his eyes. "'S'okay," I said.

Heero explained how it was that he could identify the man and his familial relationship to Keel. He left it at that.

Wufei shook his head. "Odin Lowe! Dear Buddha. I am sorry." He did look sorry for Heero a moment. "We need to talk. In private."

"Can this wait a couple days? He's taking me to Zodiac Island for my first vacation in…decades, and I don't wanna miss out."

"Do you require medical attention?" he asked first.

"Nothing I can't handle."

Wufei agreed that he could wait a couple days. He turned to one of the officers with the car. "Is that man secured in custody?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Now, get him out of here," Chang said through clenched teeth, "before we have the Peacecraft guards meddling in this. Call for a tow truck and get this vehicle secured."

"Call me when you get back," he said to Heero. With one crisp movement he was aiming for his car, and a few broad strides later, driving away.

I didn't even get a chance to ask him when he was starting his new job. "Hey!" I winced as Heero tested the darkening bruise on my jaw.

"Serves you right, picking fights with hooligans."

"I didn't start--! Oh, hell." I smiled at Heero even though seconds earlier I was seething inside. That man had made me feel foolish, and marred my face. "I have to stop at the drug store."

I left a bush a little worse for wear and a pair of tire tracks across an edge of lawn, but I got my car out of the crowded driveway, past the palace, along the short drive to the shopping center, and into a parking space.

Heero remained in the car while I sought out a dozen emergency ice packs and picked out an assortment of pain medications offering me varying levels of relief. I was licensed to write prescriptions, and I did. When I returned to the car, I asked, "Would you hold this to my jaw while I drive?"

"That's stupid. I'll drive. _You _tend to your jaw."

Heero grabbed the keys out of my hand and bounded out. He raced to the driver's side and slid into the comfortable, worn seat, while I had no choice but to settle into the passenger seat. As he adjusted the mirror, he hummed with excitement.

"You didn't plan all that just to get your hands on a car, did you?" I asked.

"Hn. A hearse?" he laughed. "No, I had nothing to do with it. Now, why are there two brakes on this car?"

"Two...? That one's the clutch. You've never driven a stick shift? Oh, jeez..." I groaned and plastered my forehead with another ice pack.

"I was kidding."

"Christ." I leaned back, eyes closed. And this had been such a lovely day. "Where are we headed?"

"Airport."

"Airport? I thought we'd go to the docks. Take a boat?"

"We could, but this way is faster. When you said you would be early, that we could start sooner, I altered the plans."

"More expensive."

"That's okay. I'm not totally without funds. I'm no starving college student. And this is a special occasion. Does that meet with your approval?"

It did, but he wasn't going to admit that just yet. "Let's see how the evening pans out, okay?"

"Holding your judgment in reserve? That is wise. It puts the ball back into my court. I must continue to please you to leave you with a good impression."

I gazed out the window and noticed he was driving up the street to the mortuary. "Eh?"

"We'll have a taxi take us the rest of the way. I don't want to leave your hearse unattended for the weekend."

I was in no position to argue, so I didn't. I closed my eyes and let Heero take over. He phoned a service and parked in the back of the building. I heard him get out and open the back, heard the scraping of bags, the closing of doors, the arrival of another car over the gravel road.

"The taxi is here. I could have him take you to the hospital, if you think your jaw is broken?"

"No, 's'okay, not broken, just the painkillers kicking in. I'm fine."

I remember getting into the taxi, squeezing in good and close to Heero. I felt his hand reach over and brush my hand. I think he was testing me but I didn't hide anything. When his hand made another move back he entwined his fingers in mine and I just sat there. I didn't move, blink or barely breathe. It just felt right. It was like having a conversation without any words, and then I was waking up moments later.

"Are we nearly there yet?"

"No. We just passed the Chinese restaurant on 9th."

"Yummmm. You ever eat there?" I asked to get my mind off my throbbing jaw and to stay awake.

"Never been there. Is it especially good?"

"Yeah, and the portions are huge," I said. I couldn't grin, but if I could have, I would have.

"I like your attitude. You really hold nothing back when you're going for what you want."

"Same could be said for you."

"If it interests me, that's right," he agreed and concentrated on the road out the window. I assumed he was watching the route the driver was taking; just to make sure he was getting his money's worth. "But only if it interests me," he added.

"And I interest you?" Oh, I knew I did. I was just teasing and begging for sweet talk.

"Yes." He rolled his eyes. "I think you need to pinch me."

"You do?" I smiled on the not-sore side of my face. "It's no fun when you ask."

"How else will I believe that you are really going to Zodiac Island with me?"

"Oh, like a dream come true?"

"Something like that, yes."

"And the pinch would make that complete?"

"Well, not exactly... OUCH! Duo, that _hurt!_"

"Heh, heh. Yeah, it_ is_ more fun when it's unexpected."

Heero shook his head. "When I asked if you'd like to join me on my visit to Zodiac Island, I truly hadn't anticipated that you would say yes. The place has negative connotations. There are other places we could go."

"It's just for a couple nights, right? You plan to be back for a Sunday night play practice. I mean, jeez, 'Ro, don't make so big a deal out of this, okay? I didn't have anything big planned, and I figured I'd be nuts to miss an opportunity like this."

"Actually, it has become a very big deal." Heero glanced over at me. "I appreciated your spontaneity."

"Yeah, Quatre would have taken a week to mull it over." Had the request come from me; however, I noticed he had no problem freeing up time for Trowa. "He would have had a thousand concerns and Wufei a thousand questions."

"For which I would have to have the right answers before his answering, and then probably both of them would have declined anyway."

"Heh, heh… I might be guilty of making the occasional rash decision."

"And this one was so unqualified, so unexpected that you left me speechless when you said yes-- for a moment."

"You know, I'm not going for the five star accommodations."

"But they are. Zechs promised us the best."

"Oh." Wow! I had just been joking. "That's…cool, 'Ro, but I meant what I said. As long as it's you and me, babe, it's all I need."

He leaned over and kissed my nose. I was glad he aimed there and not at my messed up lips. It might have been more of a show than our driver expected, though. The taxi swerved, making an illegal lane change, and a horn blared, pointing out that fact. Heero straightened but left his arm around my shoulders, and the driver drove on, a scowl on his face.

When we reached the airport, Heero directed the taxi to a private airstrip. "You can park for a short time adjacent to that low building."

The driver removed our bags from the back of the car wordlessly, and Heero paid him, also wordlessly, when a man in coveralls, an emblem marked OZ over his chest, approached us.

"Mr. Yuy. Been a long time since I saw you last. Plane's ready. Will you be piloting tonight, or would you like a crew?"

"Who's available to fly us?"

"Miss Shari tonight, sir."

"She's good. Okay, ask her to take over. Mr. Maxwell and I will board now, if that's all right?"

"Certainly, sir. I'll see to your clearance with the tower. Have a good flight."

I looked Heero up and down as we walked up to 6-person private jet. "You have a pilot's license? You never told me that."

"There's a lot you don't know about me," he said with a forced smile. "All good, of course. I grew up on this island. I learned to sail and fly-- anything to get off of it as soon and as quickly as I could. Here we go now..."

And then I wondered, if he has such bad memories of living there, why did he want to bring me there on a break? Just to let me in on his past? It couldn't be to please Zechs, so it must be important. Right? But more importantly, how was I going to kiss Heero with my bleeding lip and aching jaw, much less seduce him into fucking me?

A/N: Special thanks go to my dear editors and supporters "Snowdragon" and "Waterlily" for all their help and for convincing me to insert "the best part" to this chapter. Heero imagining Duo naked and wet and sprawling-- that was all Waterlily.

* * *

End Chapter 12

TBC in Chapter 13 -- September Leaves part 2-- coming real soon


	13. September Leaves, part 2

**Greeting Cards**

This is an on-going story arc, based on Heero's greeting cards, and updated monthly, at least.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

**Warnings:** AU, male/male pairings, language, some embalming and autopsies topics covered.

**Chapter 13 --**

**September Leaves,** **Part 2**

* * *

It was a gorgeous day to fly, and I had never been in a plane before.

"I can't believe that," my intensely hot, blue-eyed boyfriend said. "You seem so worldly."

"It's true. This is my first time in a plane."

As I shifted my icepack, he reached over and unclasped my seatbelt. "Come here." He pulled me onto his lap. It felt good to lean into his back, feel his warmth, and listen to his soothing monotone voice.

"A small jet like this Raytheon Hawker 400XP is an ideal beginning. It is small and fast, up to 511 MPH, and good for short hops."

"Hawker hops." I was just being silly.

"Look," he said excitement causing his voice to rise. He pointed out the window and I turned my head to look. "A pod of whales! See!"

"Yeah." My face was throbbing and my head ached. I was holding off giving myself a thorough examination until I had swallowed a Demerol or Percodan. No, I decided, it was maybe going to be a Darvocet and when I was in bed. The acetometaphine I swallowed dry in the taxi was barely shaving the sharp spots off the pain in my jaw, which wasn't broken, I was pretty sure, and the ice pack was keeping my face from blowing up. If I smiled, the lip would crack back open and the bleeding renew, so I kept my mouth shut, mostly, and limited my conversation.

I think I even dozed off for a few minutes because when I opened my eyes, Heero was earnestly looking over at me.

"Are you doing all right?" he asked.

"Uh, huh. Just not the most romantic of situations, ya know?"

"There's something you might want to look at. The island. Do you see it?"

"Uh huh."

The plane was banking as it circled over Zodiac Island.

"I asked Shari to fly low and give us the scenic tour. The compound is on that side."

I nodded. Gray featureless structures were dotted across a barren landscape, which was completely cut off from the forested portion of the island by a high wall. The land ended in ragged cliffs with no less than a two hundred foot drop off into the ocean. It was lifeless and still and very, very bleak. It looked as if a great wind had swept the land clean, cleared it of every rock and plant and animal, and then a solemn people had come and erected the great stone walls and buildings. _Imagine living out your life sentence in a desolate place like that._ I shuddered.

"What a godsforsaken place. Geez...No wonder no one escapes," I said.

"No one leaves _at all_."

"Well, you did."

"I meant the inmates, baka."

His hollow voice had been giving me the creeps, but now he seemed to be trying to make me feel better. "Baka" was just his pet nickname for me, right?

Heero was looking far out to sea, his eyes hidden, so I couldn't tell what he was really thinking, and that was probably just as well. Some thoughts were best not shared.

As the plane swept low over the forest side of the island, told me, "Wild wolves in there."

"There are? You ever see them?"

"I've heard them. At night they would howl. My guardians would warn me that if I did not obey them, they would throw me to the wolves."

"'Ro, that's just an old saying, you know."

"Unfortunately, not," he said flatly. "I knew it was possible because a few of the inmates had, well, been punished."

"And you're not kidding, right? Damned brutal. Damned nasty place to choose for a romantic getaway, don'tcha think?"

I was very curious why he'd picked this place if it seemed to bring up bad memories to him, but then I wanted to prove I trusted him and his judgment and was with him all the way. I hated being second-guessed all the time myself, and my guy's self-confidence was a bit shredded.

"I'm sorry, Duo. This is going to be a good vacation. I did not mean to bring up the past."

"'Sokay," I told him.

He seemed so emotionally impoverished it frightened me, but he hadn't meant to make me feel bad. I guessed that the pain descending on my mind dampened my spirits and made me susceptible to emotional surges. Still, there was so much he and I didn't know about one another. As connected as we seemed, that gulf of unknowns was there. Seas of secrecy. Oceans of obscurity.

"What were you saying?" he asked.

I had no idea so instead I asked, "Um, did Odin Lowe live here? Or was being here before that or just an off and on kinda thing?"

"On and off." His eyes drifted out to sea. To change the sensitive subject, he looked for more sights to interest me. "The only approachable beaches are on the side opposite the compound."

I would have liked to ask more questions, but Heero obviously didn't want to talk about it. So why bring me here? It had been Zechs' idea, so how did he come to have so much influence over my guy? But when Heero turned his intense blues on me, I knew I could just drop the questioning for good. He'd tell me in his own time. Plus, we were alone, for the most part. And I was on his lap! Best make good use of the opportunity. "Oh, I wanna go see those." I added an enthusiastic wiggle of the hips and evoked a smile and some hard evidence of his interest.

"I'll make sure to set aside time for that then. There! Look at the white sand."

"Man, it's so bright! Must be a rare sunny day, huh?"

"Yes. That's our good luck working."

"So, this is the side you lived on? Tell me you lived in a house and not in the asylum." I smiled, opened my lip's wound, and the blood gushed. "Aw, fuck!"

Heero mixed up the contents of the sack from the drugstore and pulled out more gauze. "Let me." He pressed a fresh compress of gauze to my lip, and he held it in place firmly.

"Thanks."

"To answer your question, no, I didn't live in the asylum, and, before you ask, I didn't live in the jail either." The corners of his mouth turned up. I had the sudden urge to kiss his lips. Too bad about that.

"You can see my old place now."

What I saw was a castle on a hill cleared of timber at the forest's edge. "That place! That's not a home!"

"You don't need to tell _m_e that," he laughed aloud. "It was converted into a resort with the nice beaches and natural outdoor hot springs and our room."

"Just our room? Nobody else here?"

"I wish. No, there are accommodations for others, too. You'll be the only one I'll be seeing, though."

"Oh." I liked that. Now, that was romantic. And sweet.

"Time to fasten your seatbelts, gentlemen," Shari called out from the cockpit. "the landing strip is straight ahead."

After landing, Shari sent our bags ahead to the resort. "I have to locate the keys to the island car. I won't be long. It's right over there, the Ferrari two-seater."

"The resort goes in for smokin' hot cars," I said, running my hand over the mirror-like, black hood appreciatively.

"This is too high maintenance for my tastes."

I winced and closed my eyes, leaning back against the wall. Heero may have said that and meant that, but he was drooling over the little black number just the same.

"You sure you're up to this?" he asked me, for the umpteenth time.

_God, buck it up, Duo_! I really needed to get over myself, push back the minor pain and enjoy this break from routine. "No fog and no clouds? We may never get another day like this all summer. I'll be okay, but thanks for asking."

"Here you are, Mr. Yuy."

Heero turned at the sound of Shari's approach. "Thanks for running these down for me," he said as he took the keys. He gave Shari further instructions for preparing the plane for their return flight home, but I wasn't listening. I was impatiently messing with the door handle.

The lock disengaged and I slipped into the passenger seat. First thing, I checked my face in the visor mirror.

"Is it broken?" he asked as he poked a finger at my jaw, and threw the car into a rubber-laying reverse.

"No, it's not dislocated either. Bone bruise. The joint's sore and swollen, too, so I can't open my mouth far." I flipped up the visor and turned to face him. "It'll be black and blue shortly. With luck, the discoloration will stick around long enough for the performance and I'll be able to get out of the whole play thing. Ah… that was a joke. I can't smile or my lip starts to bleed again."

"I had forgotten about … the play. Are those pain killers helping any?" He shook the paper bag from the druggist while pealing away from the landing strip and rip-snorting down the narrow drive.

"Fine."

Okay, he didn't believe that shit from me. He opened the bag, fumbled around inside with the bottles, and checked the labels. "Narcotics."

"Either keep your eyes on the road and drive or I will." His eyes shifted forward and I grabbed the sack. "These are mostly codeine derivatives, which is why I not taking them until I go to sleep. I need my concentration unimpaired."

"Hn." He grunted. He had accepted what I said and respected my wishes and moved on. I guess it did work both ways with us. "Look over there! Nesting herons in the trees. If you would like to, we can park and stroll the stream down to the shoreline and look for shells."

"Absolutely. What a superb day!"

And when we were out of the car, he took my hand in his, locking fingers, and guided me along the stream to the beach. I hadn't the heart to stop him; I wanted to walk forever into the sunset and kiss him in the crashing waves in the sun's dying light. But I couldn't; I hadn't the energy. I leaned on him and stopped, feet buried in the clean, pure sand.

And he read me like a book.

"The beach is not going anyplace. It will be here tomorrow. Why don't we go back, have some dinner…"

"Sold!"

He smiled and would have carried me all the way back to the sizzling hot sports car, if I'd let him. I think I slept the whole fifteen minute drive to the resort.

Heero checked in at the desk, while a clerk loaded our bags onto a dolly and rolled them away. I looked at my face in the lobby mirror, examining it closely. I'm not usually a narcissistic man, but I'd never had my face messed with. I had always been able to hide the damage done to me.

"The lip looks painful," Heero said in a low voice, like a velvet caress in my ear.

"I gotta give that guy credit. He knows his stuff. He was good. One hit, just right, nothing broken, nothing serious, but enough to ruin my weekend. He could have easily killed me, if he'd wanted to, but he wasn't stupid enough to do anything extreme. Too bad for you, Ty Keel, wherever you are. Yuy's _mine_."

I heard Heero's sudden intake of air. I must have surprised him. When I heard his voice, husky and sexy sounding in my ear, I got goose bumps. I guess he liked my possessiveness.

"I like being yours," he said.

If I'd hadn't been starving, I would have taken him to our room and let my imagination rip. "That's good. So, ah, are you about ready for dinner?"

"Coming, dear," he purred in my ear, and then he stepped to my side and took my arm, wrapping it over his. "I was hoping to avoid this, but the resort hostess noticed our arrival and she wants us to join her."

"Are we that important? Do you know this person?"

"Not that I know of. Don't be afraid."

"Afraid? I'm not afraid of anything. I don't intimidate easily either."

"I know. I admire that about you."

I held the ice pack to my face. "Am I dressed okay?"

"Yes. Your suit from your court appearance looks better than what I have on." His eyes scanned me from head to toe and he smiled.

His eyes- how can I explain that look? Desire wrapped up in something warmer and absolutely genuine. No cross purposes to figure out. I could only hope I could transmit something akin to that to him. I told him he was mine, but really he was his own man to give.

"Okay. Lead on."

He escorted me through the cold stone hallways and I think he liked the feeling of being in charge. I don't think he'd had many chances in the past and I, well, I had my job to supply that for me. What I needed was for him to completely dominate my body and possess me like he did before. Remembering the exciting feeling of his mouth on my cock stirred it to life. My erections always had great timing as a kid, and I was being sarcastic. Naturally, this was a fine time to choose to get demanding, now that we were already on our way to eat.

We made our way from the lower level entranceway, past the occasional faded tapestry or dark landscape painting which acted to break up the monotonous gray blocks between dimly lit wall sconces, to the second story dining room.

He hesitated at the door.

"So? Go in," I urged.

"I just want to say," his eyes roved over my face appreciatively, and then lowered to encompass my whole person in that way he could and not make me feel anything but treasured, "how terrific you look tonight, Duo." He held out a hand and touched my hair, his eyes open and luminous. "You are the most beautiful man I have ever set eyes on."

"Oh..." I looked askance and blushed under his hot gaze. "Thanks. Listen, I'm not good at accepting compliments, okay?"

"Get better." He opened the door and stepped aside, "You first."

(o)

Duo strode confidently into the dining room in spite of his injured jaw and swollen lip, and having to adjust his pants. If he had wanted to go to our room and skip the meal, I would have jumped at the opportunity, but now that we were at the dining room I could not avoid comparing what I remembered with what I was seeing. I wondered how much the old castle, the containment of my past, had changed. I took in the rich rococo decor in a glance. That had not altered at all. Florid wallpaper with gold leaf embellishments ringed the room; a huge crystal chandelier with asymmetrical scroll work hung over the centrally located and equally ornamented table, which was surrounded by no fewer than twenty elaborately ornate carved chairs. Faces I thought I had wiped from my mind turned to look at me from ghostly bodies seated around the table. I never was good at running away from my past.

Duo brought me back to the here and now. "The light makes me think of a floating castle in the sky for some reason." It was a fleeting whimsical thought, because immediately after saying it, I watched his eyes swivel to the single occupant gracing the table. "Oh!"

Oh, indeed. I did not expect to see her here. Nor her, me, from her surprised expression. It had been awhile.

"Hiro Yuy? Gracious! Is that you? A little birdy told me to contact room 21 and invite them to dinner, but I didn't expect you."

That "little birdy" had to be the vulturine vampire, Zechs Merquise.

Duo's eyes had widened in disbelief and a gasp escaped his swollen lips. "Wha--?"

"And who's the pretty creature you have brought tonight?"

"Hello, Lady Une. This is my good friend, Duo Maxwell. Duo, I introduce to you Lady Une."

Duo, not to be wowed by anyone for long, said, "Nice ta meetcha—_again_. You don't remember me? From the Valentine's Day dance? You got my card and we danced. You sure look terrific tonight."

"Oh, why...thank you. Yes! Of course, how could I forget a face like yours, although…What happened to your face? It looks terrible. Does it hurt?"

"I ran into a door just before leaving, heh, heh… I plan to take some pain killers and go to bed after dinner, but thanks for asking."

"Really? It looks painful. Have the nurse look at you after dinner; there is one on call from the desk. We have medical help onsite because we are so, well, isolated."

"Ah, thanks, but it's not as bad as it looks. I'll be fine."

"Very well. Yes, I recall that gala all now. You were such a good dancer and so handsome and I introduced you to another young man, a graduate management student, Mr. Winner."

"Yeah, Quat turned out to be a, ah, nice guy. He's a good friend, now. So, I thought you were the Sanc hospital administrator not a resort operator? Hey, this is some place ya got here. Heero didn't tell me you lived in a castle. Kinda dark and gloomy, but I like that aspect of it. Good looking spread on the table. This all for us?"

"If you like."

If Lady Une was nonplused by Duo's quick change of topics, she didn't show it. She revealed nothing with her polite smile. The fine-boned woman with the light brown hair pulled back into a tight bun didn't look a day over twenty. She had had her eighteenth birthday party the day I left. It was not an exaggeration to say she had hardly aged since I saw her last.

"Had I been given advanced notice, I would have had some entertainment planned." Lady Une poked at her salad and warily watched us, like a mother goose with young nearby. I didn't feel like her quarry, but more like we were being evaluated. Would we supplement or compromise her ongoing project? Her sideways glances my way reinforced the notion that I in particular posed a dilemma for her-- include me or eliminate me, but then I recognized her as my guardian's oldest daughter.

"So are you employed in Sanc and here both?" I asked as I pulled out a chair for Duo and then took my place at his side.

"Both. I'm filling in for a friend here. It is like a vacation actually. Will you be staying long?"

"No." I was curt. I had investigations to conduct, which would be hard enough to do without Duo being aware, but Lady Une would have to be avoided as well. I knew that the best way to do this was to say little so that I could conceal my motivations and not upset anyone.

"That's too bad. I'm sure you will want to return again, then. Here, dear, try the eggplant in garlic. You are so slender, Mr. Maxwell; you can have all the sausage you wish. It's too spicy for me tonight."

Duo, I was relieved to find, let nothing interfere with his meal. He ate with his usual gusto, favoring the one side of his mouth only slightly.

"It has been a long time since I've seen you, Hiro. You have grown."

Duo looked at me, questioning me silently, so I explained. "Lady Une was the oldest daughter of my guardians when I lived here. We only met on rare occasions."

"And then you stole a plane and flew away when you were only a child! You came back and left, I heard, several times since then." She tapped her wine glass with a long polished fingernail.

Nails like hers reminded me of death-dealing talons—with bloody tips. There were vampire birds; in fact, the other night I watched "Islands of the Vampire Birds" a documentary on blood-loving finches. The most important source of food for these birds, during the extended droughts, is blood. The finches would begin by landing on the tail of a seabird. They would peck at the base of its wing feathers, break the skin and cause it to bleed. As the blood would ooze out, the finches would sip it every few seconds. Other finches would line up like a queue at a blood bank and as soon as one would leave its blood-sucking perch another would take its place. It looked gruesome.

But Duo looked devastatingly desirable. So much so, that when I looked again, Une's nails were actually rather attractive and when I thought about it rationally, talons were not beaks. Beaks made me think of mouths and hers was moving.

"…or did you? Oh, he's not listening. But it's the truth. Hiro rarely visits so you must be someone special." Lady Une was scrutinizing Duo again. I could tell she was extremely curious about him, and he remained a very cool customer under the strained circumstances.

Also, Duo's mouth was too full to say much. I think the soreness was slowing his chewing and he had not yet adjusted the fill rate to match.

"Duo and I are to be in the same play, as is Zechs Merquise. When I expressed an interest a special vacation spot, he suggested Zodiac Island, so here we are. I plan to give Duo a tour, but then I'm expected back, so we won't be here long. It wasn't my plan to put you out, Lady Une."

"A play?"

Unfortunately, that became the topic for the remainder of our conversation, I think because we knew nothing about it to satisfy her interest. Duo managed to lay on the charm and throw her off with a few dark jokes that only someone in his line of work would accumulate. I loved them. I made mental notes to remember them.

I imagined a new line of dark-humored cards as he talked. No one would care if I was quiet. There were thank-you cards, get-well cards, bon voyage cards, lover's cards. What about cards for odd people?

"The last play I attended left the audience hanging. The plot never ended! It was terrible," Une said, as she made a face and stabbed at a curl of romaine.

"Heh, heh," he chuckled. "Speaking of hanging, did you know that in Erwin, Tennessee an elephant was once hanged for murder?"

She did not know that.

What if the card sported a picture of a dead elephant, hanging from a tree, his trainer broken in two and inside the caption would read "This is not what I meant when I asked to hang out" or something like that, and then Duo's joke line?

Une's muttering pulled my attention back to the table conversation. "Not fair, it's just not fair. I am so tired of eating salad and dieting to keep my weight stable," she complained under her breath. Her eyes soaked up Duo as he put away bite after bite of rich food.

That remark led right into his next joke. "You know, Alice Chase, who wrote 'Nutrition for Health', died of malnutrition. Heh, heh... You gotta get more activity into your life. Me? I haul corpses around. Er, sorry…not for dinner talk that, heh, heh…"

Une looked a little pale after that admission. So I supplied some back story. "He owns and runs Maxwell's mortuary."

"Oh, that's right," she said. "I did know that. Someone has to see to the dead, don't they? Such rituals we inflict on ourselves." She chewed thoughtfully on her lettuce leaf.

"You have no idea," he said, leaning over the table. "In the Spanish Pyrenees, when a beekeeper dies, each of his bees is splashed with a drop of black ink." Using his fork, he demonstrated painting little dots. He smiled at me and mouthed "pointillism." Well, he was close.

I started to drift into my head, imagining him dotting me with his tongue, which looked long and flexible, well exercised from so much talking. I did tune in when he laughed at something said, which was fortunate because I was alert enough to hear him followed up with another good card greeting I could use.

"Did you know that the tiny poison arrow frog has enough poison to kill over 2200 people?"

And, no, Une did not know that either.

"Well, I shall look forward seeing you in a play, whatever it is about." Lady Une flicked off her beeping alarm watch. "Oh, the time! I'm afraid my time as hostess is over for the evening. The lab requires constant supervision, and now I must relieve my chief scientist. Hiro, you can show your... friend... to the pink room across the hall from yours. It hasn't been used in a long time, but I'm sure it will do for one night. The room you were assigned has only the one bed. I'll have it keyed to open with the single pass before you finish here."

Once again, she focused her attention onto Duo. "I am glad you visited the beach earlier. I think our shores are quite lovely, but frequently inaccessible, sadly, because of the constant bad weather. We sit out here in the ocean with no protection from nature's whims."

"How did you know we were at the beach?" I must have sounded paranoid, but I wanted to know if we were being monitored.

"Duo has fine white sand under his fingernails. It is unique to our beaches." She smiled at him. "Oh, yes, and tonight another storm is blowing in, I understand, so it may delay your departure tomorrow until late."

Lady Une concluded her speech with the placement of her napkin on her plate, and then stood. "I must go now."

"Oh? Well, nice to see you again, Lady Une," Duo said.

Duo, I could tell, was not frightened by her. The good food was the cause, in part, and possibly he had medicated himself before dinner. I refused to nag him about his pain. He was far better informed than I when it came to how to drug himself.

I wondered, though, if he sensed something creepy about her. Creepy and inherently evil. Vampire bird suited her.

"Yes. Perhaps we'll meet in the morning, then. Goodnight." Lady Une stepped briskly to the door and closed it after her.

The woman's polite demeanor did not disguise her underlying annoyance with our presence on her island—not from me. I felt it like the bass line in rock music– ever-present, but not expressed in the melody. Lady Une had been surprised by our arrival, mine in particular, and I felt unwelcome. At least I knew Zechs hadn't warned her; at least, I didn't think they could be in league together.

And then there was the woman's unearthly youth. I repeatedly sneaked peeks at her while she was talking to Duo. When the leashed-in aggression, controlled reserve. and unnatural lack of aging were all put together, it set me on edge. My spider sense was banging a big bass drum, though that could also have been my heart beat.

It suggested a hidden agenda and evil intentions.

"So, Heero, what now? You _really_ off to bed so early?" With Lady Une gone, Duo's spirits, and mine, returned to near normal.

"That's right. It's later than you think. We didn't leave the beach until nearly eight, and now it's after ten."

"Don't I get at least a quick tour of this place?"

I took in the fatigue-etched lines around his eyes and the dark bruising climbing up from his jaw. "Our reservations are for two nights, but considering the storm," Then I saw disappointment unmasked in his eyes, "How about an indoor tour later this evening?"

"Okay." He paused to yawn and wince when he over-stretched his mouth. "Yeah. I guess I can use a chance to digest awhile. But if the storm's not a big deal, I want the outside tomorrow. I can wait till then. "

"You _will _wait."

"Only to save you from facing you childhood fears and roaming the wolf-ridden grounds in the dark." He tilted his head to the side and smirked at me.

"I almost believe you care about me, with that rare show of sensitivity."

Duo punched my his arm. "How's that for sensitivity?"

"I stand corrected." I kicked him in the pants and he kicked back as we started out of the dining room. We traded friendly punches along the hallway to the stairs where he bounded up ahead to get a better attack stance. And elderly couple coming down the stairs squashed his plans and stifled our behavior. Too bad. I liked his playful side. At times I worried that his job had aged him beyond his years.

I escorted Duo up to the third floor. "Most of the private living quarters are on this level. This is your room." The pass key was in the lock, as promised. That was fast. I opened the door wide and flicked on a light switch.

"How come _I _get the pink one?"

"Take a look. I don't see your bag, but of course they must have left them all in the other room."

"Oh, wow, Heero! This is great. There's a balcony and everything. I gotta tell you, when Une said 'pink room' I was thinking something pretty perverse, but this is great."

The walls were covered in burgundy striped wallpaper with dark cherry wood wainscoting below. A small bed with a creamy bedspread and tissue-thin matching canopy occupied the center of the room. There was space at the side for a small dresser, which acted as a bedside table, and an alcove with built-in rod and hangers. The only pink item in the room was a beautiful floral carpet adorned with full-blown roses in various rich shades of pink and red. Light issued from an out-of-place modern fixture overhead.

"Where will you be?" he asked with what I have to say was the craftiest look I had ever seen.

"I'll show you, so you don't get lost." I pointed out the bathroom a door down from his and my room directly across from that. "I'll leave my door ajar in case you need anything, like your bag."

"Maybe that," he replied. "Okay, well then, I guess I'll see you in the morning. What do I do?"

Now he was being coy, and doing a bang up job of it, but I could pretend to be oblivious. It was only a game and we both knew it.

"Get some sleep. I'll come get you early in the morning. I want to beat out that storm she predicted, if possible. Good night, Duo. Sorry I can't be any more entertaining for you tonight."

"'Sokay." Duo waved and returned to his room, the pink room. He was chuckling so I knew he wouldn't hold out alone for long. He would come running for me in a minute. I was sure.

(o)

The first thing I did when I entered the pink room was to give my face a thorough examination in the bathroom mirror. One side had become a tight splotchy mask. I muttered under my breath how I'd love to take that thug apart with my bread knife someday, which appeased my ego slightly. Certain that there were no broken bones, I brushed my teeth and swallowed two more Tylenols. I had some fantasies to work out with Heero before I'd be getting any sleep. I needed to be alert and would be better off fighting down some pain then trying to battle the fogginess of the more effective pain killers I had bought. Those I would reserve for later.

The question was, how long before Heero showed up?

And if he could outlast me, how long to wait before crawling into his bed?

I flung myself upon the bed, not bothering to remove my clothes or turn down the bedclothes. I had no intention of sleeping; resting a little would do fine. But resting was difficult. I could hear all manner of things– the wind gathering force caused the windows to rattle and the gusts sounded eerily like howling. The room was stuffy, so I slid off the bed and unlatched the windows.

A burst of wind swept my hair away from my face. I removed the tie at the end of my braid and untwisted the rope. The wind caught the strands and tossed long coils into the air. I wrapped my arms around over my chest and shivered as the cold dampness chilled me through. It was as if the weather had capriciously skipped from summer into winter while we had dinner.

Then I heard the howling. It was coming from someplace else, not from the wind over the ocean.

"Wolves!"

Those had to be the wolves Heero had told me about. It was a terrible sound to hear alone like that in my room, and to make a bad thing worse there were more noises growing in intensity with the wind. All around me were the sound of voices moaning, wailing cries on the wind, and the groans of the wooden stanchions supporting the overhanging portions of the castle bending under pressure.

It took considerable strength to step back, push the windows shut, and latch them tightly closed, leaving my heart to pound against my ribs, fighting to get out. "This will not make it any easier to get to sleep. So, I might as well go pay my boyfriend a visit and give up the act."

In fact, the dark room was pressing in on me, the floral rug oppressive. "I'm not staying in here another minute."

I ran out the door and down the hall to Heero' room.

"All right you win. Damn it, 'Ro, I did not come here to sleep alone."

And he just laughed, having won our 'hard to get' game by simply waiting me out.

(o)

"'Ro? Heero? Where are you? Where's the light?" Duo whispered as he entered the room.

It was absolutely dark, but my eyes were adjusted so that I could make out the general furniture arrangement. His were not.

"I am in bed, like I said. And my overhead light is not working; the bulb must be burned out. Watch the legs on the bed to avoid stubbing a toe," I recommended as he crept to my bedside. "If I'd known I'd be having company, I would have lit a candle."

"Bastard. Light it, if you actually have one."

I laughed at his cute irritability while snapping on the lighter. I liked the smell of melting wax and the golden glow of candlelight.

Duo scrambled into bed alongside me, soaking up my warmth with a grateful moan. His unharmed jaw side was to me, giving me the opportunity to stare at his profile, pale against the darkness beyond. The candle light flickered in escaping eddies from the cracks around the old windows and made the highlights in his hair sparkle.

"You let it down."

I couldn't resist reaching out to smooth his hair, to roll my hand up in the lustrous length of it and to push back the bangs to reveal his dark eyebrows. I was struck by his usually animated features now immobile. Handsome-- perfection in still life.

"Your hair is amazing."

"It's a bitch loose, I can tell ya."

"Who is a loose bitch?" I asked.

"Yuy, you are in some mood tonight."

"Umm." I had covered my face and head and chest and as much of the rest of my naked body with his hair, draping it in hunks, fanning, and spreading it all over.

"Man, am I glad no one can see this," Duo said.

"What are you talking about?" Did he not want me to play in his hair?

"I just got in bed with you and I'm entirely dressed. And you know why? Okay, because I was so fucking scared of the wolves howling in wind out there. And s-stop laughing!"

Which would have meant more if he hadn't been laughing too.

"God, it hurts, it hurts," he cried out with a hand over his mouth.

I moved closer, my breath drawn, movements slow and even, cautious not to jar him or pull his hair, and then I kissed him lightly on his cheek. "Night."

"Oh, no you don't. You're not gonna make me go to bed, not… at 10 o'clock at night, fully dressed, with you…fuck, you are totally naked. Is that my hair or yours? Damn, that looks hot. I am _not _missing out here after waiting so long for this."

"Well, I cannot kiss you suitably. You can't kiss me…" He had me by the collar, dragging my face to his.

"So we don't kiss."

I licked his nose, but I also unhooked the top button of his shirt. "Is this all right?"

"I-it's a start."

I really liked the waver in his voice, so I unbuttoned three more, revealing a deep "V" of chest skin which I had to taste. His skin felt like satin. He smelled like a man, musky. The skin warmed as my tongue painted our initials on his chest.

"W-who needs a kiss?"

I undid the remaining buttons and pulled off his shirt. I couldn't keep my hands from caressing the muscles across his chest, his shoulders, arms. So slim but cut like a weight lifter and pale, so pale.

I squeezed and rubbed, unknotting the rigid line of muscles along his neck and back. He melted in my hands and moaned for more.

"Aah, oh yeah… Hired."

"Pardon?"

"You're hired. My personal assistant. Full time. Starting immediately."

"What about the pay?"

His eyes were luminous. He was offering me anything I wanted. I could take it all, but I wouldn't. "Too much," I whispered. I was not sure he understood my meaning.

I was wearing my boxers to bed and I still had a bit to go before Duo was equally undressed, so I rubbed his crotch to see his reaction.

"Take them off before I start screaming."

"All right." I wanted to go slowly and exaggerate the excitement, but he was not into drawing out the foreplay. As I unzipped, he shimmed out of his slacks, taking the shimmery, satin shorts along with them. I recognized them as the ones I had given to him.

Then he was tugging on mine. "Off."

I obliged him and his hands were encircling my erection like kudzo vine. Kudzu is a vine native to Japan and China that when left uncontrolled will eventually grow over almost any fixed object in its proximity including other vegetation. That was Duo on me. His fingers investigated; his palms stroked my most private parts. When he smoothed his prickly cheek against my groin, I jumped. Then, apparently satisfied that I possessed all the important parts he was expecting, his arms wrapped around me. His legs intertwined with mine. I just lay flat out on my back and let him roam.

When he came up for air he said, "I just can't get enough of you. Good thing dinner was big or I'd have to eat you."

"Good thing. Oh…" It felt so incredible to be groped and caressed and touched and adored by him. Too incredible. I hadn't been intimate in a long time. All it took was one look when he was lining up our erections to compare length and breadth, and that did it.

"I'm longer but not by much and thicker around here. See? But you are straighter with more flare at the tip and redder…"

"God, Duo!" I came in thick, ropey spurts over his hands, his erection, and my chest.

"Oh, that is hotter than Hell!" he told me, as if I hadn't been noticing.

He used my seed to stroke us together. That. Just to watch him do that made me rock hard in seconds. Flaccid to rigid and ready to go again in under 30 seconds. That had to be some sort of record. It was for me.

"This okay?" he asked. I opened my eyes in time to see him coat his middle finger with cum. I did not care what he had in mind. I just nodded. As long as he did something.

What he did was start prodding my anus with said finger.

"Pretty tight, 'Ro."

It had been a while. The digit popped in and he pushed.

"This'll be good in a second."

Did he need reassurance that I was loving everything he was doing to me? "It's good now. Oh!"

He massaged my prostrate and stroked our erections. I was better this time. I lasted at least fifteen seconds.

"I-I…ah"

I forced my eyes open so I could watch him come. He exploded and shouted and I had to contain him with my arms or he might have rolled off the bed, hair flying.

We lay together for a long time cementing ourselves together.

"Duo? I've got to move. I'll bring us some towels. Just stay where you are."

"Not…moving. Promise."

I grabbed my pants and zipped up in order to leave the room. I washed up in the bathroom and returned with a damp towel and a dry one.

"Wake up. I have something for you."

"Not…asleep," he muttered groggily.

"Good. You can open this while I clean you off."

"Thanks. You brought me a September greeting card!" He watched me wipe off the sticky cum and dry him off, then he opened the envelope. "It says to Duo, so I got the right one."

"The one and only one like that."

"Oh… pretty."

It was a drawing of him outlined in violet with fall leaf prints.

"You are so good. I mean, you know that, but it always surprises me how you can capture my expression with so few lines. Cool. Okay, what did you write…?"

"_**May love bind us through sickness and in health until death do us part."**_

"Ah, that's –"

His troubled tone sent my hope into the closet and freed up my fears to come out. "Was it too soon to sound like we are so permanent?" I asked.

He studied my face and then smiled. "No, 'Ro. I think of us like that already, too. I really want us to be that way. It's really love, isn't it?"

"Yes. I really love you. I've never been in love, but I've written many cards about it, many poems. And this is greater than all that. You are…"

"Yours. I am yours and you are mine. And, well, I thought I had the great love of my life, but I was wrong. I am so free with you, we are so balanced, I feel so…"

"Complete."

"Yeah."

"Me, too."

He set the card aside and slid under the sheets with me. We knotted up together, unknotted, twisted, adjusted arms and legs. At last I turned over with my back to him, he spooned up around me, whispered "I love you", which I whispered back, and I fell asleep instantly and unexpectedly.

* * *

End Chapter 13

TBC in Chapter 14 -- Note Cards, part 1 (a look into what Trowa and Quatre are doing)


	14. Note Cards, Part 1

**Greeting Cards**

'Note Cards' is a side story to Heero's greeting cards on-going story arc, featuring Quatre and Trowa's POV.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

**Warnings:** AU, male/male pairings, language

**Chapter 14 --**

**Note Cards,** **Part 1**

.

* * *

"Wanna ride?"

I think maybe I did, but not on Trowa's new motorcycle. I looked over the bike with little interest, but let my eyes linger on the strong thighs pressed against the rumbling engine. Trowa was like no one I'd ever seen before, and yet he was. That sounded silly, I know, but there was something familiar-feeling about him and special. I felt comfortable instantly in his company and not a little turned on.

By the way he peered at me from under his bangs, his real barrier, and gave me that infinitesimal smile—he _knew_. Plus when I let it, I could feel his desire for me and his curiosity. But since using my empathic gifts was a little like cheating at the game of love, I honestly tried to shut them all off, and leave all my friends' most intimate feelings hidden, and believe me that was hard. The temptation to sneak peeks was terribly strong.

Trowa revved his motor, and mine purred in tandem.

(o)

Right from the start, I felt a magnetic charge from Trowa that hit below the belt. It was not a magnificent time to fall in lust, because I was dating Duo at the time and he was dating Duo's friend Hilde. I didn't even know if he would be interested in dating another guy or not. Oh, and to make things more complicated, Duo hired Trowa to work for him, putting him too far down on that unavailable list.

Still, Duo sensed _something _happening between us. I know, because some time after Hilde started dating Detective Chang, and very close to the time of our breakup, Duo felt the need to comment about Trowa.

"Quatre, the guy has the hots for you. He digs guys."

"He dated Hilde, who's a _girl_."

"That he did. So, maybe he's bi. More choices that way, right? Heh, heh…" Duo waved away that problem. "Get to know him and ask him. Oh, and you might as well know he lost most his memories in some freak accident."

"He WHAT?"

"Eh, on second thought, better get 'Tro to tell you 'bout that."

And as soon as Duo and I broke up (not that I was as unfeeling and heartless about that then as I sound, but I don't want to get into that now), I intended to I ask Trowa out.

To my surprise, he called me first, and asked if I had a free moment to talk. I _made _one. One skipped graduate seminar wouldn't kill me, right? When we met for coffee at an on-campus shop, what I learned was that he had a sense of humor that you might miss, and if you did it could sneak up and bite you on the ass.

I had decided not to waste time and asked him directly, "Are you seeing anyone?"

And he answered, completely straight-faced, "I'm looking at you, aren't I?"

I probably turned eight shades of red gradating from pink to burgundy. "I mean…dating. Are you dating anyone?"

"You," he said without missing a beat, "I thought."

And left me speechless, breathless, and, well, that adds up to dumbstruck. I was so off-balance that I choked on my skinny latte vanilla mocha and made a mess. While I mopped up, he kept smiling enigmatically and supplying me with napkins. I babbled out a weak "Oh, well, yes, of course. I see. I wasn't sure. Um…"

"Duo told me about the break up," he told me.

"He did? Oh, well, good." I guessed this was Trowa asking me how I was getting over Duo. "It went well." That sounded cold and Trowa's expression told me so. "I meant to say it was a mutual thing. We're still friends. Good friends. Just not, ah, boyfriends." I tried to drink more coffee and nearly smothered myself when I dipped my nose into the foam.

He wiped off the foam with his finger. "You're okay then?" he asked.

"I can breathe, yes." But he meant about the breakup, and so the conversation went.

The first "date" was a little shaky, and I was a little worried until he asked, "Can I see you again?"

I couldn't even pretend to be cool. "Yes! Tomorrow?"

"Okay, after work, but don't you have a discussion group to lead?"

He knew my schedule! "I don't always have to lead." I smiled and, yeah, I felt the special connection.

The next dates were nice. Nice. Platonic, not even a kiss! He liked his distance and since I knew he'd dated at least one girl before, I felt as if he was just trying me out. I suddenly understood what Duo must have felt dating me. Trowa was polite, funny, thoughtful, intelligent, and totally avoided sexual contact. I could sense his discomfort and avoided discussing the nature of the problem. I didn't know if he was gay or bi, except for what Duo had said, or if he'd had ay experience, or forgotten it!

There I was, ready to take that next step, and this time it was the other guy pulling the rug out from under me. _Me!_

Winners are made of tough material. I would win this man over. I _so_ would.

We connected on a deeper level when I took him to my condo for that séance. We did end up at my place partially because it was within walking distance from the palace. That could have been a wonderful exchange of personal information and sharing of feelings, but it had been more tortuous than anything else. Still, he had made some progress toward recovering his memories, and that was the point of the visit after all.

He invited me to help him shop, although I thought 'clothes, yay!' and he meant 'hotter than hell motorcycle', but one thing led to another and we agreed on a weekend trip.

And then he called later and upgraded that to a long weekend. I alerted him to some play rehearsal of Duo's we would have to get back for but what did that matter in light of An Overnight! That meant going from zero to a double overnight… maybe a triple! We'd get to fool around someplace romantic.

(o)

"Well? What do you want to do?" Trowa asked again. That look of boyish expectation upgraded with some real masculine sexuality just charmed me off my game.

"I'd like nothing better than a little ride on your motorcycle—with you."

"You helped me pick it out."

"I just chose the color. You are a green sort of man, not red." I had also approved of his make selection. You can't go wrong with a BMW of any kind.

"Green? Okay," he said. We _always_ agreed in the end.

Mmmm. I removed his little bundle of personal items and set them aside. Then I hopped astride, pressed up closer to his back than necessary, wrapped my arms around his waist to "hold on", and announced "ready!" hoping he'd get the message; I had wanted no mixed messages about my intentions. I was ready. I was interested. We'd have sex some place romantic tonight.

I would have been in his arms before we got past his apartment door, had he taken me there. Instead, we buzzed around the block a couple times and returned to the driveway of my condo.

"If we're going further, like to the dunes, you'll need to wear the helmet. But… I don't see your bag, so I figure you've changed your mind about the weekend?"

I cheated and sampled his emotions. Oh, he suffered from lust. I had nothing to worry about in that department, but he was holding back_. He_ was the uncertain one.

We'd have sex some place romantic. _Right? _ You bet we would, despite his reservations. I would make those misgivings disappear in no time. Of that I was certain.

Even though he had seemed to understand perfectly what an overnight invitation implied when we'd talked on the phone, including bringing a change of clothes and toothbrush, now it seemed that he hadn't gotten past the 'bouncing over the dunes' part, as opposed to the bouncing around on a springy mattress. But, when he'd called to tell me he'd have a few extra days, I knew it had to be far more special and constructive than that.

I decided that we could hunt for his past in the L3 area and have some excitement. I just knew he would love this and recovering those lost memories would do him a world of good. I was so certain this plan was splendid, that I had made all the arrangements. Then I got busy with my course work, grading papers, drafting my next assignment. There just wasn't time to talk. So, it came down to now to surprise him with the extra special weekend plans.

"I'd love a ride, but for the distance we're going, I'd like to take my car."

Trowa's eyes slid to the jaunty little red Mazda Miata I had had been resting against. "We're not going through the L4 desert, I take it."

"No, I have a better idea, since we have extra time. Clubbing in L3." I smiled shyly to correspond with his uncertain near-smile, and then added the punch line: "You can drive."

That brought a genuine smile to Trowa's lips. I knew he didn't have his own car, so he never had the opportunity to drive one. The cycle was new and I know he was proud of it, but I could tell he was pleased to get his hands on my sports car.

"Oh, yeah? Cool, thanks." He folded his arms over his chest. "It never occurred to you to ask me first? I didn't exactly pack clubbing clothes."

"I've taken care of all that, so don't worry, and if you don't like what I picked out, we can buy new clothes. That could be fun, too!"

Trowa concentrated on something in the distance. I think he was trying to judge the distance to Nova City. He often weighed his thoughts before speaking, too, which I considered to be a sign of maturity.

I thought I'd augment what I'd just said and give him more to muse upon. "If we leave now, we'll get there in time for a late lunch. Then, we can check into the hotel, freshen up, change, and hit the streets!" It was a perfect plan.

"You made all the arrangements already?"

"Yes. I thought of everything." Now he would get the opportunity to see what an accomplished man I was. I was brilliant.

"Well. Let's get going." He seemed raring to go, but first, I showed him where to store his bike and we secured it in the garage.

"This will be fun!" I tossed him the car keys, loaded the back with our luggage, and then climbed into the passenger seat. "You can ask to borrow it anytime, you know."

Trowa just nodded. I think I embarrassed him. I doubted he would have the nerve to ask for some time.

I directed him to the right highway, and then plugged in a CD. It wasn't long before we were singing along to the eclectic mix of tunes, and shortening the boring drive. The sky was clear, the road dry, and all was well with the world. He slipped through the gears like a race driver, which made me think that he must have had a car of his one at one time. I didn't want to start prying so soon, so I complimented him on his shirt because it was the color of my eyes and seriously embarrassed him.

"We've skipped every turn off, so I take it we're headed directly for Nova City."

"Yes! Is that okay with you?" If he had any reservations about going there, it wasn't too late for me to change plans. That's what cell phones are for!

"Yeah, I haven't been there in a while."

"I have a sister there. Of course, I could probably locate a sister anyplace we went!"

"Is that so?"

"I have 29 sisters. Lab babies."

"No shit. No wonder you steer clear of girls."

God, I loved his sense of humor!

We had miles to go and plenty of time to fill with meaningful conversation neither of us could run away from. I had always been the younger bother or cousin and bossed around by all the other people in my life, so I looked forward to being the leader. And, since Trowa preferred to avoid most social contacts and stay within his own head, and since there were topics we needed to discuss, I would begin.

I thought it was funny that it was he who jumped in first.

"Heero's taking Duo away this weekend."

"Is he? Well, that's nice. Duo works too hard."

"Yeah, he does. Good boss, though."

"Is he? That's good. So, where are they going?"

"Zodiac Island."

I couldn't believe that. "Of all places! Expensive, austere, and remote. It doesn't sound like a Duo kind of place to me. I suppose Heero might have chosen it, though."

"I think Zechs had more to do with it."

"Zechs Merquise? How odd."

"Not really. He has some connection there." Trowa gave me a quick look but there was no doubt that he was trying to decide whether or not I could be trusted.

"Trowa, I want to help you recover your lost memories, to help you anyway I can. Since we had that little...séance… has something more happened?"

(o)

The séance was hardly that. I do not commune with the dead. I do not read the minds of the living. I read feelings, the stronger the clearer, as an empath. I tried so hard not to 'read' Trowa, despite my curiosity about him. I really liked him, but we were both men and I didn't even know if he was bi or gay. I didn't know why he had dated Hilde or if he had had any other relationships with men or women. All I had to go on was that Trowa had said he was 'seeing' me, so I let that comfort me.

Since I imagined he had similar questions about me, I decided to open the can of worms, starting with my dating Duo.

"Does it bother you that we dated?"

"Depends." That was all he said. I was afraid I'd have to kick him if he wasn't more forthcoming.

"On-?" I urged gently.

"On whether or not you and Duo ever, you know. How serious you got."

"Do you want me to tell you?"

"No, well, yeah. Depends."

That I understood to mean that he didn't want to hear about our wild nights of sexual bliss, and since there were none I was safe in telling him the truth.

I had tried with Duo. I did try to entice him when we first met at the restaurant, not that I had to try too hard. "I didn't stint on friendship or affection-- what I could give."

Trowa did have something to say about my analysis. "You sure about that?"

"Still, he really wanted more and I wasn't ready to give it." Because I was falling for you.

I knew I was right not to have sex with him.

And…I knew I was right when I met Trowa Barton.

And I knew I was right when I saw the way Heero studied Duo.

"I knew I was right when Duo broke up with me."

"Duo figured you'd engineered the break up."

"I was doing the right thing."

"I'm not saying you weren't."

"I know it wasn't a bright spot for either of us, but I thought it was important at the time that Duo be the one to break up. I knew he wouldn't deal with rejection well. I could feel it. I had no ego problems associated with parting, but I could feel them pouring off Duo like a fountain of angst."

Trowa smiled ruefully. "Well, there's no reason why you should have ego problems."

Taking that as a compliment, as backhanded as it was, I blushed accordingly. Duo was cute and sexy, but the feeling I got from him paled when compared to the rise I got from Trowa. It wasn't that Duo was too unrefined for me. I'm not a snob, I don't think. He and I just weren't a good fit. He was too frenetic at times and other times troubled and other times needing more than I could give. He pushed the mental shields I erected to protect myself from his Tsunami-like wash of emotional overload. I'm certain Duo had no idea what he did to me.

I'm sure Trowa did.

"Oh, I have some failings."

"Not many, according to him."

Just lack of sexual interest in him, the self-esteem killing failing. "Well, Duo was being very charitable, then."

"So you were…close?"

Trowa wanted to know if Duo and I had had sex, of course. He and Duo were friends, worker and employer. Dating me was probably awkward for him, especially since I had been attracted to Trowa while I was still dating Duo and even though I hadn't pursued Trowa or done anything wrong, I felt a little guilty now-- and maybe Trowa did too.

"Oh, well, in some ways, but not intimate. Nothing like that, really," I said in a nervous rush of words. So much for open and easy. Suddenly my inexperience caught up to me as Trowa's gaze penetrated my superficial act.

Sometimes I simply wanted to avoid dealing with how I felt. I had denied being gay as long as possible. I denied myself romance. No more. The stronger the feelings, the more painful when they weren't returned.

"Our relationship was stagnating and Duo was unsatisfied with that. So was I. When I examinee how I honestly felt about Duo, and I did this over and over, I came to the sad conclusion that I wanted and needed his respect and friendship more than the sexual experience."

At this point I was feeling like it was time to stop the chatting about me and get down to business, which was supposed to be séance to uncover Trowa's secrets, not mine. Trowa, however looked rapt, fascinated by all the information. Well, it was little wonder. I wasn't holding back.

"That was it?" he asked.

"I never… neither of us were the type to sleep around with just anybody."

"I didn't think you were." Trowa smiled fractionally, then like a wink it was gone.

"I didn't want that kind of bond with Duo. And especially not, knowing how Heero felt about him. If Duo and Heero could become interested in each other…? I was happy that my friend could be so lucky. And, I have to admit, I was secretly pleased because it freed me up to explore my own feelings." _For you_, I thought, but didn't say aloud.

No messy explanations. So, I should be able to talk to Trowa about this. Grow some balls, Quatre Raberba Winner!

"Duo and I would have made great brothers under different circumstances. He was my first boyfriend." Oh, dear. Why had that confession made me blush? Please don't look at me, Trowa. Keep your dreamy hazel eyes on the road.

"That's what he said."

"I never had, you see…at all…ever."

"That's okay. There's a first for everyone, whether they remember it or not. Although, it's hard to believe other men left you alone." He shot me another measuring gaze that caused the blood to rush to my face, again. "You attract attention."

"With a name like Winner, they did. And I was for all intent and purposes straight. I-I was rather popular with the girls, at one time." I stopped when he looked askance at me. "I have dozens of sisters so I understand the female mind."

"Uh, huh. I bet you were popular. Rich _and_ good looking."

"I liked dressing well and taking care of myself. I liked girls to pay attention to me. That seemed, well, natural. But I was aware that I liked it more when guys noticed me, not that any asked me out and I was too shy to ask any out. I really wasn't into dating anyone for the longest time, and then one day, I thought Duo was the hottest but most discrete guy in the woods to start with."

"So you dated Duo?"

"He was unsure of himself, too--"

"Yeah, coming out is intimidating. He was upset about being outted," Trowa interrupted. "He muttered about how his customers were going to react around work. Sorry, go on."

"Oh, that's okay. What you said was true. That was all my fault. I thought he was openly gay, so when I tried being open, about coming out and all, I outted him, too. I felt bad for doing that, but I couldn't fix it. I didn't mean to hurt Duo, ever."

It was definitely time to move on and hypnotize Trowa, delve into his murky past, find his sensitive points, but no, he was back with more questions. It was almost as if he was trying to avoid the séance.

"Heero didn't say anything to you?"

"You mean like 'Shove off and give me a shot at him?' No, he didn't have to, did he?" We both laughed. I was relieved to have the worst of the grilling over with.

"He's intense."

"He's that and more. Once I realized how my feelings for—" I couldn't very well just blurt out how attracted I was to Trowa, not yet. "I mean… well, when I saw Duo falling for Heero, I knew what had to happen. I gave them a push and a head start. Once left on their own, magic happened. It worked. Duo broke up with me; I'm sure he told you that. I thought it was important not to dump him, you know?"

Trowa nodded. "Sorry to tell you this, but he felt the rejection. Being turned down for sex is tough."

"But you understand why I did that? I didn't love him; Heero did. And they started going out after that. Duo thinks he was the one behind getting me to ask you out or getting you to ask me out. Whichever. And that was good for him, too, don't you think so?"

"Yeah," Trowa lowered his voice to add, "Duo seems real happy with Heero. He's still a whack job, but that's cool."

"Who wouldn't be with a job like that?" But Trowa had a job 'like that', too! "Being in charge and all?" Forgive me?

"I don't blame him. It takes a certain type." Trowa riveted me to my chair with his intensity for a moment, daring me to make him defend his job. "Now that he spends more time with Heero, Duo's gotten goofier. But mostly I respect him and how he has to buffer me and Zechs apart."

I liked that Trowa could recognize how Heero had changed Duo. I was feeling good about how the conversation was going, and then he blindsided me with: "It's just been bothering me for a while, thinking that us meeting one another had something to do with your breakup with Duo."

And that was what I'd wanted to avoid. Who was the empath?

"Maybe our meeting contributed a little, but so did the advent of Heero. No one was left out."

I think that admission was a turning point. Trowa could forgive himself for falling for me, if just a little – I didn't know how much yet. He could feel like he wasn't dating the guy who broke his boss's heart.

Trowa, in fact, knew a lot more about where he stood with me than I did about him. He didn't offer up any of his deepest secrets, though, and it was getting late, so I didn't push. Not this time. I'd learn about him later.

It was after that we got down to business, and I attempted to hypnotize Trowa. My sister, Iria, was the best at real hypnosis in my family. I dabbled, but when combined with the empathy, I could cause a person to relax and draw out memories, but the memories had to be there and I didn't know if Trowa's problems with caused by a permanent physical injury or a temporary, even psychological, one.

Regardless, we didn't learn much. Trowa recalled making a significant discovery relating to a woman called Leia. He couldn't remember what it was he'd discovered, and he wasn't sure about the name, admitting that her name could have come to mind because Zechs had brought up her name at work. As I said, we didn't learn much.

Trowa told me about a girl who had died and come in for burial. He said her name, Mariemaia, was a familiar one and that her death should be a vital piece of some puzzle. I felt so helpless and unable to supply much reassurance to him that the puzzle in his head was getting any closer to a solution.

The last thing he revealed was the strangest to me. He was muttering incoherently, about to come out of the hypnotic state and then he blurted out, and I quote, "the White Fang knife had been mine."

Later when I discussed all the things he'd said to me, I advised him not to say anything about the knife to the others. "We aren't sure it's a fact or not. None of what we've learned here is reliable information."

"If I remember something that proves I ever had a knife like that, though, I go to Chang," he said.

"Talk to Duo first and if that knife is part of some investigation, especially a murder one, then you get a lawyer. I have a sister, who's a very good one."

We ended the séance on that chilling note. Trowa let me drive him to his apartment, which is how I knew he liked my car because he massaged the leather seat with one hand. I thought he might kiss me when he got out. He hesitated, but thanked me instead and left.

(0)

"You mean, has anything related to me cropped up at the morgue where I work?" Trowa nodded. "Lots has happened at the morgue. Most you don't want to hear about, but I can get you up to date on the stuff that relates to Zechs. All this creepy shit started up about the time he showed up to 'volunteer.'"

We had a little less than an hour of climb into the mountains left to our drive and for all our talking, I hadn't been able to learn much more about Trowa or his feelings for me or his expectations for this weekend. But, if I could get him to bring me up to date on his work, I would consider that to be progress.

"Well, if it relates to you, I want to know about it," I told him. "And if we can figure out why Heero and Duo went to that island instead of some nice mountain retreat, that would be interesting."

"Okay. There's Dekim Barton, for beginners."

"B-Barton? That's your name! Is he a relative? Do you know him?"

Trowa shook his head. "I don't think it's coincidental by a large margin, but I've got nothing more to go on. Anyway, we autopsied him and it's pretty likely that he was killed by a dude named Marshall Noventa, who we met as another corpse special of the day."

"I wonder under whose orders?" I mused a moment. "Did you ask Catherine about the Dekim guy, if she knew of him?"

"She didn't know anything. Except that she brought me my birth certificate a few day ago. My father's name was right. My mother's name was not what had been on the one I'd ever seen and…my name was Tristan Bloom on the birth certificate. It was changed to Trowa Barton by the time I was taken to the circus. I don't know who was responsible for that, and she doesn't either."

"Oh." That was a lot to absorb. "Maybe it wasn't the right birth certificate."

"It was, but I don't want to go into that now."

"Oh, okay."

"Just has to do with the hospital records at the time I was injured."

"That's okay. There's more, right? I mean, besides the name that you think links you to this Dekim Barton man?"

"Yeah. He was shot at close range in the back of the head execution style, before his body was found in tank of water. He and his car found in Voyate lab site."

"Hmm, we should look into Voyate labs. I've heard of them. I think they are a subsidiary of Winner Corp, in fact, so it would be easy for me to look into them." I smiled feeling useful again. "What else?"

"He swallowed a gold chain and medallion that both Chang and Zechs says links him with White Fang. I recognized the jewelry, but that was it. I couldn't remember where I'd seen them before." He pounded on the steering wheel, his frustration showing. "Everything that had happened around the time of some accident is a blank, including the accident."

"It isn't unusual for someone who has suffered from some awful trauma to have memory losses. It's a way your mind and body deal with it."

"Yeah… so I've been told."

"Have you been told you'll get better?" I asked.

"Yeah, and it comes back in flashes."

"Well, is there more you ca tell me? Maybe going over the facts will help."

"Could be. So there was a girl who came in, dead. Zechs ID'ed her as Mariemaia Barton-Khushrenada."

"Another Barton connection!"

"Yeah, and there's thought that she was killed by Noventa. I don't know where Chang's gotten with that."

"So, what do you know about Marshal Noventa? Or is that out of your hands?"

"Oh, we got to meet him hands on. Noventa came in, actually Zechs and Duo brought him in, burned to a crisp. The man had been murdered with one or more stabs with a knife and left in the back seat of a car. Then, some two weeks later, someone came back and set fire to the car, maybe in the hope of getting rid of the corpse, or creating the impression he had died in an automobile accident."

"How did you know who he was then?"

"He had decipherable work ID on him. Zechs traced it to—"

"Let me guess, OZ Penitentiary and Asylum."

"Good guess. The dude failed to show up for work one morning, and he was listed as 'not in attendance' but not reported missing by his employer, which isn't any real surprise."

"Nothing would surprise me now. This is getting very mysterious, Trowa."

"I faxed Detective Chang a copy of Marshal Noventa's prints on record at the penitentiary. They keep records of many things there, dental records too. Chang can do the work to link Noventa to Dekim Barton's death, say fingerprints on Dekim's car, and the girl, too." He stopped at an intersection. "Looks like we're almost inside the Nova city boundaries. Anyway, I figured there was a link from this Marshal Noventa guy to Barton when the knife found in the car with Noventa, was determined by blood and bone scrapes to be the one that killed him. And the knife was a White Fang ceremonial dagger embossed with their wolf canine insignia."

"Oh! So whoever killed Noventa used that knife and was either part of White Fang or they used it to implicate them and left it as evidence."

"It was a plant, for sure."

Then I remembered what Trowa had told me while hypnotized. "You recognized the knife!"

"I'm pretty sure it was mine at one time." Trowa said.

"And the jewelry that Dekim Barton had swallowed, that was yours, too?"

"Not that I know of, but I had seen it before. It's White Fang, too, I'm guessing. And Zechs is a part of White Fang."

"I thought Zechs was nice. He's not?"

"Depends on what side you're on. We'll talk about it another time," Trowa said in that tone of voice that ends the topic.

I took the hint and took the conversation down a different path. "Not everyone is how they seem, I know."

"You're nice. I can tell that."

"Oh? Thanks, but I wasn't always. There was a time when I thought I could just go out there and take what I wanted…" my voice faded. "Shallow, that was me. But getting to know Duo changed that, I think. He was so genuine. He deserved more and better. So did I."

I let my eyes linger on Trowa's face hoping he'd get the point that I meant him. I wanted to know for sure what he thought of me, about me actually, but I wasn't going to cheat-test how he felt. I wanted him to open up and tell me.

I smiled and said. "Now, I have character. That's what all this is, right? Character-building gayness. A true test of a friend is who will like me in spite of my sexual orientation."

"More of a test is who can stand that attitude of yours, dude." Trowa's eyes creased in that way he has when he's suppressing a laugh.

I punched him lightly to show I could play along too, although I sensed that he meant what he'd said, too.

"Here's a clue: being gay won't protect you. It might repel some people, but attract others, not always desirables. Be prepared to be fawned over just for your looks, because you will be. It will make your life even more confusing."

I returned his half smile. "That will be okay. That kind of problem I can deal with, as long I have something real to believe in." Like you. I flashed him my most sincere smile.

Trowa shook his head and changed CDs. "If you say so." He laughed a deep rumbling laugh that I could listen to over and over.

"Funny guy." I grumbled. Actually, I wasn't the least bit mad. I was relieved and grateful for the conversation. It helped get my feelings out in the open. Trowa could become my closest confidant at this rate. What I wanted was to become his, and that was something new to me. I didn't just want him to _want_ me, I wanted him to want to be _with_ me and to trust me. And I wanted him to want me, too, but that was secondary.

We listened to the next song, and then I tried again to talk him and draw him out. "At first, I thought maybe you and Hilde had been going out together for some time, so I wasn't sure if you were available, or gay."

This had been bothering me for some time. I didn't want to be his sexual-preference testing ground. I wanted to be his _choice_.

"We went out clubbing a couple times."

"Was that it? A couple dates? But…why?" Why Hilde? Why a girl?

"It's safer to go out with the ladies." He smiled knowingly at that. "I met her at the Valentine dance at the hospital where I was working. She was with Duo and didn't let me near him."

"Oh, I see." But not much, except that I'd come in third after Hilde and Duo.

As if he knew I wasn't satisfied he added, "We never got past the 'tickle and kiss' stage, actually."

"Mmmm," I would think about that.

"I think I'm bi, Quatre, if that's what you want to know. I don't date much in any case. I don't know what my preferences were, who I dated, what I did prior to three or four years ago. For all I know I'm married!"

The blood fled my face. I hadn't thought of any of that. I must have made a strangled little cry, because his eyes left the road for a second as he glanced over at me

"Probably not, though," he said with a glimmer in his eyes, "since no one's come looking for me. And Catherine's positive I'm not. She says she remembers me being a loner and a busy student hanging with a few geeks. I can't imagine me being any kind of a player."

"Yeah," I dipped my chin to hide my pleasure. He shared something private with me and I could have burst with delight. "Lost memories or not, I don't think your personality could change that drastically. Still, it's good to hear it from you."

* * *

End of Note Cards, part 1

TBC in Note Cards, part 2


	15. Note Cards, Part 2

**Greeting Cards**

This is a side story to Heero's greeting cards on-going story arc, featuring Quatre and Trowa's POV.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

**Warnings:** AU, male/male pairings, language

**Chapter 15 --**

**Note Cards,** **Part 2**

* * *

Nova City was spread out in a high elevation valley between the mountains of L3. Hiking, skiing, climbing, and fishing were popular sports, which drew thousands of visitors into the numerous inns and lodges throughout the year. Nova City University added its own community of students and staff. Combined, the populations of the city of Sanc and Nova City of the L3 region made up half of the head-count of the entire city-state of Sanc.

Sanc housed the courthouse and administrative buildings for the area and was further distinguished by being home to both the elegant opera house and the most varied assortment of art galleries in all the land. Nova City, on the other hand, had the most bars, gambling establishments, and lax laws controlling them.

Sanc was the Justice and Culture Capital, whereas Nova City was known as Fun City or Vice Central, depending on your age and taste. Other than that, the two cities were a lot alike; each had a large university, several community colleges, restaurants, theaters, and busy communities. What I was taking Trowa to experience was Vice Central-- well, a mild version that I could tolerate, knowing his attraction to clubs and pool halls; at least, I knew he played pool often because Heero and Duo talked it with him, often meeting him and Wufei to play.

"I can keep driving around the university area, but I'm getting hungry. If I can find a place to park, can we eat at the Italian place here, or do you have other plans?" We'd skipped lunch while driving and I had skipped breakfast on principle alone.

"No, this is fine," I told him. "Nice place to walk around while it's light enough to see. Try up a block and to the right."

Trowa took a deep breath of air and let it out, smiling. "This place is chill. Fresh mountain air... I'll bet the water comes from natural springs."

I couldn't help but look on with a bemused smile. I hadn't seen Trowa this animated in a long time, _ever_, when he thought about it. "If you think this place is something, wait until you get a taste of the nightlife."

Trowa gave me this quizzical look. "You go clubbing much in Sanc?"

"A little. With school chums. Not every outing ended like that one with Duo."

Trowa stifled a chuckle. "He's a character, all right."

After a brief walking tour of the shopping district nearest where they parked, Trowa and I headed to the Italian eatery he'd pointed out. We settled into a booth and glanced at the menus.

"This is a popular restaurant. Look at the crowd coming in."

"It seems familiar. When I drove past, I knew I'd been here before."

"Hey, that's good, Trowa. Maybe the food will spark your memory."

He smiled and closed his menu. "It already has."

"Really? That's neat! You liked it here, didn't you?"

"Oh, yeah. Great place. I remember coming home to the circus that first summer after living all year at the dorms in Sanc. I ate here a lot." He shrugged as a way to minimize the importance of the breakthrough. "I don't recall the circus or much of school yet."

"But that's something."

We placed our orders, and then sipped at our water a bit. We people-watched and nibbled on bread sticks until our salads arrived.

I felt him watching me, so I looked up to meet Trowa's hooded greenish eyes. "Remember something else?"

I remember seeing you in school. I can't recall which year. I would have given anything at the time to be sitting here with you."

"Is that true? You remember me?"

It was his turn to get all flustered. Because he kept his hair trimmed short in back I could see his ears turn red. "I had a fixation on you, but luckily you didn't notice or you would have had those security men that followed you around beat the hell out of me."

"Oh! The Maguanacs, you mean. They were so embarrassing. I got rid of them when I began graduate school. They still work for the business, but back then hovering guards made getting to know people so difficult."

Trowa's meal came and then mine and we gave up talking for awhile.

Again, Trowa broke the silence. "So, you going to work the family business when you get done with school?" Trowa ripped off a hunk of bread, and swabbed up the last of his spaghetti sauce while I thought over my answer.

"I don't know, actually. I'm more interested in hotel management than having my fingers in everyone else's pie."

"You father doesn't know you want to go your own way?"

"Didn't know. He passed a few years back."

"I'm sorry," he touched his temple lightly, "I must have known that at one time."

"It's okay. Now. If he were alive today, though, I don't think I'd even consider disappointing him. He represented...everything grand to me. My sisters, too, but dad especially. But..." I checked my watch, and grabbed the check. "My treat. Now shall we find our motel and check in? Or we can drop in on my sister and can change clothes there."

"One of your 29 sisters?"

"Yes, Urula. She has an apartment close by. Just to warn you, she was the only one who backed me up when I announced to my family that I was gay last year. She's a bit of a maverick herself."

"Sounds like someone I'd like."

"I think so."

"But can we meet her later, maybe tomorrow?"

Ah, my introverted, bashful Trowa… "Sure. Give me the keys; I'll drive us to the motel."

(o)

I geared up myself, preparing for the worst, and it was a good thing. Quatre's idea of a motel room was a suite in the grand hotel, actually, THE GRAND HOTEL.

The lobby was gold with mirrors and thick rugs that absorbed every sound. I sat at the side, letting Quatre do his thing with the desk clerks and luggage jockeys, and practically disappeared into the woodwork. The wainscoting matched my hair, the upholstery my Quatre's-eyes blue shirt and gray jeans.

"Trowa? Where did you go? Checking out the dinner menu? You needn't have bothered. We won't be eating here!" Quatre filled in with his own answers where needed, saving me the effort.

As he led the way to the elevator, I could admire his slim hips, well-tailored pants clinging just right, falling just right. In many ways I couldn't have chosen a better mate than Quatre. Charming, smart as a whip, brilliant future, sexy as hell, born leader. He was bright and shiny where I was brown and muted-- nearly mute as well.

The question was what was it he saw in me? I had no damned answer, but I had a reason for trying. As a gay man about town, he was a standout newbie; he needed watching. I was excellent at watching.

Quatre's so high maintenance he needs someone who'll adore and indulge him, but at the same time, who'll slap him down when he gets too above himself. I hadn't garnered the courage to put him in his place, yet. I guess he hasn't driven me to it. And I wasn't certain I could bear to make him unhappy, but there was always a first time and then I might prove myself worthy of Master Winner.

The minute the door to our room swung open, Quatre tensed. Gone was Mr. Worldly Self-confidence; who entered with me was my irresistibly inexperienced boyfriend trying his best to rule the roost. I found him amusing.

"What we need to do is to change clothes before going out." As he said this, he deliberately avoided looking at the gigantic bed dead center in the room. "What a nice view!"

I am sure he had no idea how adorable and attractive he was at the moment. He was nervous and excited. So was I. He wasn't sure how to get from friend to lover, and nor was I, but I had some ideas and experiences to tap—at least I felt I did. And I know he didn't know how attractive his innocence was, because if he did he would have found someone better than me to take it.

To the left was a sitting room with velvet-clad chairs and settee balanced by floor to ceiling windows framed in yards of gold silk and providing us with a bird's-eye view of the restaurants, theaters, clubs, and boutiques of upscale Nova. Not my cup of tea, but probably Quatre's. I wouldn't mind "putting on the Ritz" if it made him happy.

To the right was an enormous tub and a door to, I hoped, the rest of the bathroom. Now that was new to me. "Never slept in a room with the bathtub for company, unless I was sleeping in the bathtub itself."

Quatre laughed. He thought I was making a joke. That's okay, though.

"I brought special clubbing clothes for us both." He whirled about looking for a place to put his luggage to open it, and there was that great big yawning bed begging for company.

In the closet by the door was a luggage rack. I dragged it out into the open and set it up for him. "I'm okay, really. You don't have to..."

"Thank you! Oh, sure, you're okay, but we're gonna make you better than that. Blow everyone's mind out. Your pants will do fine-- I mean, faded black jeans go with everything, just pull them down lower."

"No can do." I had to clarify for him, "No underwear."

I could see the heat rising to his face. I guess I should have felt guilty for putting into that situation, but I didn't. Now he had **me** pretending the bed no longer existed. Fuck! How were we going to get on that together? I was afraid to even kiss him he was so jumpy. Maybe playing dress up and going out ASAP was the best plan-- his plan, naturally.

"Oh, well just leave them," he said.

He stole a glance at my crotch, I swear he did and then he looked up, eyes gleaming. I was still sitting in the camouflage chair and crossed my legs automatically. He must have come to some crazy conclusion that I was exactly what he wanted to get his hands on, somehow, anyhow, and now he knew just how to do it.

He just zeroed in on me. It was a scary, scary expression, I must say. Like he was possessed or something, or it would have been super hot.

He hopped over to the open suitcase and removed a shirt and vest. "Try them on, and then I'll see what we can do with your face. I have some eyeliner here in the travel kit… someplace."

"My face...?" I passed a fearful glance his way. I couldn't help it. "Please put a stop to those plans." He had me shaking in my shoes, er, sandals. You had to see his eyes to understand.

He nabbed me by the hand, yanked me out of my hidey-hole chair, and pushed me in the direction of the bathroom. "I want to highlight your features, not cover them up."

I dragged my feet to the bathroom where he set out the clothes, smiled at me in a way that he thought was reassuring but I thought was five degrees off true. I dutifully removed my shirt under his keen-eyed supervision and flexed my pecs, which are in fine shape. His sigh sounded a little thready. I turned to look at him, but in an eye blink he was already rummaging for makeup in a stylish, brown-leather, toiletry bag.

"Not much, you hear me?" I said.

His "mmmm" didn't sound like "Okay". It was suspiciously patronizing especially when I got a good look at the wacko shit he was lining up on the counter.

"Light on the liner and sparkles. Got that?" I repeated. I got more of that "mmm" crap as a response, so I just gave up and put on the shirt, unbuttoned and the vest.

"Sparkles?" His **voice** sparkled.

_Why had I mentioned those? _"I don't like that showy stuff. Aren't I eye-catching enough?"

"Of course you are."

What a relief!

"—for most of the time, but this is clubbing extraordinaire and we need a little more…pizzazz."

"And you get to make those decisions?" I asked. What a moronic thing for me to ask. Obviously he did.

"Someone has to. It will be fun."

Okay, so I had to put my foot down somehow, on _something_, or Quatre was going to think I was a washout. So, while he was arranging his kaleidoscope of beauty items, I examined myself in the mirror. More flexing of the shoulders, arms. Our eyes met and I rolled mine and he giggled. The shirt was tight-fitting and translucent gold, while the vest was white leather with a long fringed hem.

"Something's wrong," I said with all the decisiveness I could muster. And I have to say that it felt pretty good to be firm.

"You are absolutely right!" He took off the vest and hung it from the doorknob. In the process his hands slid over my shoulders and down my arms. I wondered if he felt me tremble. "Much better," he commented.

_Was I?_ I looked again and discovered that the shirt was missing the top few buttons. Sigh. Nothing like flaunting blatant sexuality to the masses. I agreed about the vest, though. Why had he ever thought that fright had fit my personality? I'd never know. "Better without that."

"You won't need that vest. And you don't need those buttons either; you'll have the shirt off in no time anyway. It gets hot in the clubs and the Cavern is...well, you'll see."

His eyes looked a bit round. Mine probably did too, as my imagination took a trip down lust lane.

"Sit." He kicked the lid of the toilet seat so it slammed shut.

I sat gingerly on the edge and waited as Quatre rolled up a wad of towels, jammed them all between the wall and my head, then pushed on my chin. "Lean back."

With my head resting comfortably in obeisance, I silently prayed that Quatre loved me and wouldn't paint me to look like a clown. I visualized myself as a clown in a foolish-looking costume, but I looked younger and someone was throwing knives at my face. Highly decorated knives with etched designs. To my surprise Quatre's weight landed on my lap and my memory flash ended.

"Hey."

"Hey," he repeated back to me with those beautiful blue eyes blinking inches from mine. His lips were so close. And pink. And moving.

"Sit still and close your eyes again," he commanded. "I'll do the left one first, but you must hold real still or else it smears and then I'd have to start all over."

I closed my eyes more out of shame than in the spirit of cooperation. "Quatre? What have I gotten myself into? The day had been going so well, and now you are applying eyeliner to me."

And, I noted that he was planted on my lap and had a hand on my mostly bare chest. His thighs firm and… Damn, he leaned closer to reach something on the counter and our crotches were in contact. Oh that was too much.

"I was thinking of some lip gloss. You don't need the blush, do you?" he asked.

I knew my cheeks were the color of burgundy wine by now, and didn't answer.

"I never thought I'd be doing this."

_Wiggle like that again and you'll get another surprise._ Oh, man, was I getting hard. "Uuuh."

"Oh, am I too heavy? Should I get off?"

Get…_off_?! Fuck. If he hadn't had a little pokey stick near my eye I would have loved to have shown him "getting off". "No! No, you're fine."

A day earlier, I would have punched anyone who would have told me I would be wearing make up in public. Real guys did not wear makeup unless they were actors. Which made me think of the play coming up which led directly to Zechs, who I really didn't want to think about when my boyfriend was on my lap doing my "make up." I wondered what his royal asshole would say if he saw me now? He would have a fit. A ghost of a smile hovered over my lips as I imagined Zechs walking in on us and having conniptions. How worth it would that be?

"Oh, what the hell, Quatre, do sparkles and whatever."

"Good boy," he cooed. He patted my cheek and moved slightly to paint my other eye. "So, what bugs you, Trowa?"

I had to think fast and one of Duo's silly conversations came to mind, so I used his line. "When I listen to the radio and the talk-dude doesn't tell you who sang that song-- that sucks."

"Yeah, and ever notice how a station comes in brilliantly when you're standing near the radio, but buzzes, drifts, and spits every time you move away?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Or how about when you rub on hand cream, and then can't turn the bathroom doorknob to get out?" he asked. "I just hate that."

I had never used hand cream, but I had gotten into cooking oil. "Or opening a bottle with greasy hands."

Quatre laughed. "Oh yeah! Pickles and olive oil."

"Su-ure," I agreed, although now I was thinking of my cock, his hands, oil… Same idea though.

"You ever bite down on a piece of foil candy wrapper and have it make electrical contact with your filling? Now that sucks."

Oh, Jesus! I swear he said that on purpose. I did not need another sexual image knocking around in my head. There was no way he could miss my erection. He was practically sitting on it.

My eyes followed Quatre's arm as he reached over the counter for a bottle of glossy, sparkly gel. I bit my lip rather than moan as our clothed erections rolled over each other. And then I felt a new stimulus.

Quatre ran a finger over my lower lip, leaving it wet and warm.

"Done." He bounded off my lap. I turned my head and sat upright. My lips were glossy-looking, my eyes outlined in kohl. I had sparkle freckles. "Now you're ready to do Nova City."

"I don't know about the city, but I'm about ready to do—" I stopped myself before I said "you".

Quatre blinked. "You look really good, exotic."

"Thanks. I have to credit my makeup artist, though." As glib and articulate as it seemed I'd suddenly become, I wasn't. I followed him out into the gigantic-bed room, where he could dig through his suitcase again.

"You were a wonderful patient." He paused, black leather belts or something dangling from one hand, and looked up at me. "No, that's not right. You were a very patient… client, customer?"

"Subject," I supplied, as in subjected to his charming attentions.

"Oh, that's better, yes. Well, I have to get undressed… and then dressed."

Oh. Was I supposed to watch, or not? Leave the room? I wasn't quick enough to pretend indifference and look out the window or go fix my hair. I gawked as he tore off his pants, revealing these tiny black bikini briefs for a microsecond before his shirt dropped to conceal the view. He shook out some leather and metal contraption I wasn't too interested in. His back was to me as he removed the shirt and… all that pearly white skin and those tiny black briefs, so tight… legs… nice slim and trim…

And then the leather tunic ruined the view. At least it was short. Damned short.

"Damn, you look--" I just gaped a moment, then sputtered out, "Quatre... I... ah... never saw you that way before."

He was utterly delighted that he'd reduced me to a blathering fool. "Just wait to you see me all finished!"

He popped like a cork out of a bottle and raced into the bathroom. "I won't take a minute!" he called out.

I looked for a place to sit and wait him out. If he was anything like Hilde, I would have to find a way to kill some time. I should have packed a book. Instead, I just stared at the bed, visualizing Quatre lying on it in every position imaginable. This helped drive my mating instincts off the charts. I was breaking out in a sweat when Quatre's voice rang out.

"What do you think?"

Quatre had slicked his blond hair off his face with gel, which showed off his dramatically kohl-lined eyes. His exposed chest glowed with bronzing cream beneath heavy bands of a black leather harness studded with blunt (thankfully) metal points and rivets. What caught me off guard most, though, was the above-knee length black leather kilt. I thought of gladiators whirling axes in the lion pit.

_Fuck! That's hot as Hell_, I screamed in my head. "Cool, fucking cool…" I caught the drool with the back of my hand.

"What you have _here_ is the height of Nova City clubbing _gea_r," he said, laying a heavy emphasis on the rhyme pattern. "The tunic was going to be too warm so I went with plan b."

_Where had he been storing "plan b",_ I wondered? _Was there a "plan c"?_

"Oh." I said, shocked. "You ever wear that before?"

"No. I bought it just for this occasion." Quatre shuttled me toward the door. "So, I have our bar hopping all planned out. You'll have a blast, I know. This all wasn't so bad, was it?"

"No, it's… I can't believe how hot you look in that." I wanted to touch him, all over. I used caution and fingered the leather bands which lay across his chest.

"You, too!" Quatre said.

And if he'd stepped one micron closer, I would have grabbed hold and never let him out the door.

(o)

And we both laughed as we picked our way around the neglected garbage cans on our way to high adventure.

"So, what's on your agenda?" I couldn't pretend I wasn't up for this. Quatre couldn't either. His eyes were dancing already. "That Cavern place I heard you mention?"

"Not to start with. I hope to jar your memories by taking you to lots of places. The Cavern is an exclusive club. Has the best bands, deejay, and atmosphere. So, here's what I figure: we go there last."

"Like the dessert."

"Yeah, definitely the 'whipped cream and cherry on top' place. I think I know your taste in music pretty well."

Trowa shrugged. "Like you, I like it all."

"Even hip hop?"

"Ahhhh, not that one so much. Why? Is that all there is around here?"

Quatre looked relieved. "Not at all. No, that'll work out fine. I'll take you to a few interesting but on-the-edge kind of clubs that my sister recommended. Right around the corner is our first stop."

"It seems strange. I grew up here and you're giving me the tour."

"Someday, we'll come back and you'll show me around the places you spent time."

And I believed him. He made me think I would regain my mind and be complete. He especially looked amazing in that leather kilt. That was absolutely all I could wrap my mind around at the moment.

What Quatre chose first was the least odd of all the spots his sister and her friends frequented. The Miami Nice club had a tropical theme, which meant that the walls were decorated with garish neon lights in the shapes of parrots and palm trees, and the folks at the bars held tall drinks sporting colorful umbrellas or slices of fruit.

"Remember," Quatre warned me. "You got a long night ahead of you. Take it slow on the drinks or you'll pass out before the fun starts."

"Quatre, I've been drinking for quite a while. I know my limits, but thanks." I wasn't that much of a drinker. I didn't know where he got the idea that I was, but the way he admonished me told me more about how he cared than about what a control freak he might be.

"How old _are_ you?" he asked.

"Probably as old as you. Graduated high school at 18, four years college, two years working as a lab assistant at the hospital, few months at Duo's place brings me to 24."

"You're older, but not by much. I graduated prep school at 17, four years college, two of graduate school, bringing me to 23, but my birthday's coming soon so we're about the same age."

"Okay, but in L4 drinking is prohibited, right? Sanc it's 21, but in L3 the drinking age is 15 and in the circus, well, it was safer to drink beer and wine than the water, for the most part."

"Oh." Quatre looked down at his hands subdued a moment. "Oh! That was a new memory for you, wasn't it?"

It was. I smiled and we shared yet another small achievement together.

"So, let's get started," he said. Quatre wandered over to a table as I picked up a menu from the bar and followed.

A few girls giggled as I passed by, which reminded me of how shiny and glowing I was, literally, from the beauty products applied to my skin and hair. I may have been under the delusion that the dark clubs would be cover enough, but I was wrong. The sparkle dust in my hair caught the light and sparkled like tinsel. I slunk into a chair at Quatre's table, well out of sight of most of the other customers, and read the menu.

I thought the mixed drink names were odd. "Shark Bite, Lava Flow, Blue Banana? Those are their drinks? That last one sounds vulgar."

"It is. Stay away from the mixed drinks. I'll do the ordering," Quatre told me. When I looked up at him he was glowering at the girls in a very Heero-esque manner.

Okay, I was willing to take orders from him most anytime.

And then I found something far more compelling than even Quatre's exposed limbs exuding animal magnetism inches from my reach. It was on the menu. "Gator bites? Is this for real? Quatre! Do they really serve alligator here?"

I guess my unusual excitement frightened him. Afraid that I might start to jump up and down like a ten-year old, I guess, Quatre whirled around and held me to the chair—by my legs, his hands on my legs dangerously close to that 'no touch or else' zone. My body had no sense of shame and begged for attention in a strong silent sort of way.

"Yes real alligator and you can try them. Would you like an order?"

"Yeah. With a side of Quatre, please?" And then I sucked in my breath. I'd said that aloud wholly unintentionally. "Um, sorry."

Quatre smiled and sat back. "Why? You were just being cute and enthusiastic. I'm not terribly good at all this. Don't worry about it," he said, and then ordered gator-kabobs and two beers from our young male server while I mulled over being considered 'cute' by a blond dolled up in a gladiator costume.

There was no band, but there was nonstop music and few dark forms quivering in time to it on the dance floor. "The deejay's named Mojo," Quatre told me, and sent a salute his way.

I craned his neck to get a look at the guy. "He looks more like a Bill sort of guy. 'Mojo' is probably a pseudonym."

"No doubt," Quatre agreed. "He was a psych major in one of my undergraduate classes in Sanc, last I knew."

Mojo ambled over and pulled up a chair. He sat in it backwards and draped his arms over the back. His waist-length blonde dreadlocks hung like dirty ropes over his arms. "Hey, Kitty-cat."

I noticed Quatre wince at the nickname. It didn't match his macho look tonight, I had to say.

"Howya doin? Looks like ya got yerself a friend?" He looked me over like I was goods for sale.

"Been okay, you're looking good. Mojo. This is my friend, Trowa." Quatre gave us both a bemused smile.

I nodded and frowned. "Yo." I was unused to being scrutinized by anyone like Mojo.

"You sticking 'round tonight?" Mojo might have asking Quatre, but his eyes were holding steady on me.

"No. We're making the rounds. Showing my friend the highlights."

The deejay looked disappointed. "Too bad. Come by later, maybe. You moving here?"

I shook his head, dashing Mojo's hopes for some kind of future liaison. "No, just seeing the sites."

"That's right. Are you graduating this time around?" Quatre asked.

"Maybe, depends. Money's good with this job, but the hours don't always work with the classes. I might have to drop classes or quit work to graduate. Another year's not so bad, either. Hey, come back so we can talk more. I'd like to get to know you, Trowa. Song's over, gotta go back to the box. Later!"

"Bye." Quatre sipped at his drink and listened to the music while I sampled the kabobs. "How do you like it?"

"How do I like what? This place, the music, Mojo, or the food?" I asked.

"Start with the alligator."

"The meat's like chicken. Mojo-- if I never see him again I'll survive fine. The music's okay, but loud, and this place is not really me, I guess."

Our server limped over as if having to wait tables was more than he could bear and asked if we wanted anything more.

Quatre answered for us. "No thanks. We're about to go. Just the bill, please."

"'Ere's your check, _mate_," the kid said glibly, and then waited for Quatre to pay.

"Here, and if you drop the fake accent you can keep the change," I said and dropped a few bills onto the table.

"Sure thing!"

Quatre finished off his beer. "Cool. Let's move on then."

As we reached the door the server shouted in parting, "Ciao, baby!"

The next club we visited was a smokier, busier place, still with a tropical flavor, but more 'organic' with overhead fans, wicker bar stools, and coconut beverage cups. We were feeling the light buzz from the first beer and he walked close to me, his leather kilt snapping my leg.

"We're here to try the snacks. Head for the bar," Quatre directed me.

I put on my bemused smile and scanned the drinks others were sipping. One couple was sharing a drink that mostly ice and arguing over who "drank it all!"

A livid, smoky drink in a tall, tapered glass was just too vile-looking to be appealing, I thought, although a two-tone green concoction also caught my eye. But when I pointed it out to Quatre, he shook his head.

"'Midori sucker,' I call it. Melon liquor and tequila that can make you go blind. I'll get you something green, if that's what you like."

"That's what I like," I said in time with the music.

The music bounced from reggae to rocksteady to ska. Currently, _Feel So Good_ was playing, which I recognized, but not the particular recording.

A large tumbler of green carbonated drink with ice was placed in front of me. "What's this?"

"Just try it."

"Lime and melon? I thought you said this could kill me?"

"Maybe I want you dead, ever think of that?" Quatre gave me a very unsettling stare.

I must have looked alarmed, because Quatre immediately shot back, "Oh, dear! I was just joking with you. This is non-alcoholic and might upset your stomach, but it won't kill you."

"You are getting goofy," I told him. The blood rushed to his cheeks. "I like the change, though. It's good to get out and loosen up, right? And this is good, thanks."

"You're welcome."

_Hold Me Tight_ played next. We watched a few young people undulating with the rhythm on the dance floor.

"So, why haven't we been carded?"

"Because they are lax. They should with all the college students around."

"The Cavern always does," I said without thinking. That's how my funky memory worked. _Try_ to remember and all I'd get back would be blank. When I wasn't expecting it, 'bang!' something would get retrieved like I was normal again. "They won't even let you past the door without ID."

"S-so you remember that?"

"Huh, guess so. Funny the stuff that flashes back." I downed my third pinch of crunchy finger food. "These are odd. Good, but strange. What am I eating?" I asked.

"Deep fried bugs," Quatre answered. He hid his smile behind a bottle of sparkling water.

I thought I showed considerable poise when I did not spit out my mouthful.

"It's a bug bar. One of a kind. Jamaican rum drinks are good here. At one time they had a band on Friday and Saturday nights, but not any more. Probably too small a place. They don't have enough room for all the customers good bands can draw, and the bad bands drive customers away. You like art?"

I hesitated to answer. Would a positive response mean we'd be visiting galleries or eating artistically painted bugs? "Maybe. Why?"

"Come on, I know a _cool _place."

I chased after my energetic friend wondering what was next all the while watching the loose flaps on his kilt flip up.

* * *

End of Note Cards, part 2

TBC in Note Cards, part 3


	16. Note Cards, Part 3

**Greeting Cards**

This is a side story to Heero's greeting cards on-going story arc, featuring Quatre and Trowa's POV.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

**Warnings:** AU, male/male pairings, language

**Chapter 16 --**

**Note Cards,** **Part 3**

* * *

A young red-haired goth woman lolled in the door frame, while another, petite and blond in Lotita garb, stood at the wide open door.

"Oh, Lord! You look great, Q-pie. Oh, yum. Introduce me to the pretty boyfriend with you tonight. Or is he for me?"

Trowa' eyes widened in disbelief. I didn't blame him. The youngest of my sisters, who was still a year older than me, was not cut from the Winner mold. But since I wasn't either, it was natural for us to gravitate together over time.

"This is Trowa, a good friend of mine," I said by way of introduction. "And, this is my sister Arula, and is that Joyce with red hair?" Joyce had had rainbow hair and a bohemian look the last time we met.

"Yeah. She and I are meeting our beaus downtown later. You here for the nightlife?"

The shorter girl with the straight red hair and beady eyes bounced off the wall toward Trowa and let loose a rapid-fire spiel. "Hey, just call me 'The Fox'. Get it? 'Cause I'm so _foxy_. What do you think?"

Trowa dipped his chin in a non-committal nod.

My sister, not to be out done when it came to outrageousness, piped up again. "She's the Fox and I'm de Bomb, get it? Ha, ha, ha!"

"I thought your friends called you 'The Bomber' because you 'bombed out' so many times at the Cavern," I said with a grin. I had scored a point on my sister, but they both chose to ignore me in favor of Trowa anyway. She still knew how to push my buttons.

"Whoa, are you cute! Tall _and_ cut." Joyce had him by one arm, fawning over him in a manner I know was embarrassing him. If she didn't back down, it would be time for me to get tough.

"Um, yeah," Trowa replied. I was afraid he was going to sink into the floor and disappear.

"Hey, dude whateveryournameis, your bangs are like...I don't know...wire or something. Shit, if mine would do that, I'd grow'em out. How'd ya get it to do that?" Joyce pawed at Trowa's whiskey-colored hair, strands sliding between her fingers.

Trowa blinked at a glacial pace, too stunned to speak or move away. Only the driving beat of the music behind us broke the silence. Trowa was without words, so I helped him out.

"Leave off. I think Trowa, that's T-r-o-w-a, in case you missed the intro earlier, is pretty cool looking, too, but enough." _He's with me._

"Oh, I think he's _awe_-some," Arula put in, pushing herself to the forefront. Anything else she was going to say was over-ridden by the start-up of a new, even louder song.

"You'd be wrong, then. Kitty-Quat called him Tro-wa. Ha! Ha!" Joyce laughed at her own cleverness.

"Listen, while we're all here," I began, "we're hitting the clubs and when I was packing to come here I couldn't find a few of my things. Is my stuff still stored at your apartment, or have you guys sold it all?"

"Sold my dear baby brother's gear? Never, never, never! How could you think that? Naw, it's back in the storage closet on the floor behind the pile of books. We should get out of here, too."

"So that's where it was," Joyce scratched at red mop. "I was wondering..."

"Anything's pretty much lost to you if it's near books," I muttered beneath my breath. "Joyce is here on a softball scholarship," I explained to a slightly glazed-looking Trowa, my sister walked out the door of the noisy club.

Arula yelled from over her shoulder, "This your senior year, isn't it?"

"Yeah, then I'm goin' into the pros, hah, ha. Naw, I quit school a ways back, but Bomber here made me come back and finish-- just one more year. I'm gonna be a market analyst."

"No wonder folks complain about losing their money," Trowa said to me as we also exited the club.

No one else heard, but I did and laughed. He was looking livelier in the bracing night air. He was looking so ethereal in the dark. A sparkle here, a sparkle there—just watching him move like a big cat, stalking…ummm. I wanted to rub up against him, speaking of cats. I became so aroused, I wondered if he could feel the heat off my body when I leaned into him? Everyone else probably did.

Arula giggled and bumped me hard enough that I fell backwards into Trowa. I grabbed at one of his arms and somehow my other hand latched onto his hip—almost something far more embarrassing. Our bodies impacted gently, and that was because he was quicker and had me in a firm grip.

"Oh! Sorry!" I said.

"No problem," he said with quick smile.

"Ooh, your boyfriend likes you in leather, Q-pie."

Now my sister was embarrassing us both, but Trowa still had an arm around my shoulders, so he couldn't have been too bothered by the teasing. I needed a clever rejoinder to same the moment, and found one: "He's just happy I didn't put _him_ in a getup like mine." I felt him chuckle at that. _Good._ "Okay, this is where we part company," I said. "Good bye, sis, Joyce. Come on, Trowa. Let's do the city."

Joyce glued herself to the side of Trowa unoccupied by me. She had a parting shot. "I thought you were a bit stiff at first, but I can tell you're all right."

He shrugged, which meant his side moved against me and his fingers tightened on my arm. I felt so protected.

"I don't scare easily," he told her.

"Hey, cool. Me neither. I'm rooming with that girl over there and she's doing grad work in chemical engineering." Joyce patted my sister on the shoulder with pride. "She makes bombs, so we call her Bomber."

"I thought that was because she bombed out at some club," Trowa muttered.

"Nah, it's the work." Joyce slid her hands over her tiny, tight black skirt peeking our from under the getup she was wearing and yanked it straight.

I did not want to share Trowa with my sister and her gabby friend any longer. "Good_bye_!" I said, making it very clear that it was time to bring this party to an end.

They got the message, finally, and pealed off in another direction with a chorus of "Bye's" and giggles.

"At last," I sighed.

"It wasn't so bad. Someday I'll introduce you to Catherine."

"And then we can commiserate over the younger brother syndrome?" I flashed him a smile and he returned one that made my knees go weak.

"Okay?" he asked, supporting me with a hand under my elbow.

"Yeah." And I know I said that in a dreamy voice, too.

He released me to stand on my own two feet, and then we were on our way, crossing to the other side of the street. If I had been attracted to Trowa before, now I was in danger of losing my heart. He was strong and starting to trust me enough to share his thoughts sometimes. I wanted to run my hands over those muscles like crazy and kiss that Mona Lisa smile so bad. And when I tested the air, I could tell he wanted me, too. The kilt had been an excellent choice!

(o)

"I'll grab a couple drinks and you find a table," Quatre told me.

I was getting a bit tired of being ordered around, but then again, I never showed much initiative around my friends, so what did I expect? If I wanted him to stop, I'd have to assert myself more. So, I gave it a whirl.

"Make mine a beer." Well, it was one small step at a time.

"Ooh, that's sounds good for me, too!"

Small steps work. I didn't have to be a doormat for Quatre to like me. Which begged the question: what _did_ he like about me then? My ghoulish job? Hell, he'd dated the mortuary boss man before me so dating one of the minions couldn't carry much weight.

He did, however, carry both drinks back to our table and set them down with a plate of lime wedges. Fruit? I would have preferred chips.

"What's the lime for?" I asked.

Quatre crushed the juice of his slice into his glass before filling it to brimming with beer and dropping in the peel. "Mexican beer. Just try it."

I gave a piece of lime a squeeze but passed on floating the peel. "Not bad." I took another sip. "I don't know a thing about wine, but beer? This is good stuff."

"Isn't it? I'm no expert, but I like this and try something new every so often. Oh, look up there! See?"

There was a narrow catwalk circling the room and disappearing into the next. "Yeah, I see the walkway."

"We'll go up there in a minute. It's the gallery."

"I thought maybe it was the route to the bathrooms. It would discourage guys from just walking in off the street to use the john."

"I'd say you're right about that. Anyway, there is a gallery up there with all kinds of art. Paintings, sculpture...and it changes." Quatre looked over my shoulder, frowning at someone I couldn't see. "They're back."

We greeted Arula, Joyce, and the two young men accompanying them, Jay and Tod. Both men were around our same size and ages, maybe a few years older, I estimated. They wore their hair long, held back in ponytails, and they were dressed in short kimono shirts left open to the waist and tied with sashes with loose silky-looking pants underneath.

Jay shared the same penchant for makeup as Quatre, although where Quatre looked Egyptian, the other guy looked more like a Japanese Geisha than anything else I could come up with.

Tod, on the other hand, was fresh-faced, and wore a large gold earring in his right earlobe. They were trying out for a club job later that night, the nature of which I paid no attention to.

"I like your hair," Tod told me.

"Thanks. Quatre 'sparkled' it for me."

"Nice job. Joyce keeps trying to get me to glam up, but…" he shook his head.

Yep. Some guys should avoid the glam, ones like Duo and Quatre, who were pretty enough already.

"So," Jay interrupted gently, "I've been told you two are boyfriends. That's cool with us. We're grad students in religious studies and martial arts at the university. How about you?"

I wasn't into discussing my relationship, thank you. "Um, chemistry, I guess, I work full time now, in Sanc where I live, and I haven't really decided whether to come out or not." I nearly batted my eyelashes, but I was actually afraid some of the eye makeup might fall in and blind me.

"Oh? Tell us what's stopping you and we'll do everything to change your mind!"

Tod said this with such good intentions, that I couldn't help but wonder what he was getting at. Straight guys usually preferred pretending gays were straight when sharing a table. And then Quatre giggled.

"He's joking, guys," Arula said. "With makeup like that?"

"Oh, you fit in fine here." Joyce had had a drink or two and I was having a problem following her. "Creeps are everywhere and will diss you, but not so many. And whatever you do in Sanc, I'm sure gets done here and you could find a job. So, if you lived here, that's not gonna change. Besides, we think you are beautiful and perfect together, so it doesn't matter."

"Now you have to come back. We won't have it any other way!" Arula chided me, and then they all laughed.

"I'm making no promises tonight," I said and left it at that.

Quatre avoided my eyes but didn't seem uncomfortable at all. He hadn't brought me here to find a new home, I was pretty sure. I assumed it was to help me remember my past here and I hoped it was to end up in bed together. It could be my lucky night, if I was reading Quatre right. I decided I should kiss him and find out. Finding the right time to do it was the hitch.

"Have you been upstairs yet?" Tod asked me.

"No, Quatre was telling me about it."

"You guys go on up. We'll meet you," Jay said. "I haven't talked to Q-ball in a long time."

Q-ball? That was pretty funny. Quatre rolled his eyes and mumbled something to the guy I couldn't hear over the music. Q-pie? Kitty-Quat? He did have a kittenish quality, when he wasn't ordering me around.

"Okay." I might as well look at the pictures. What I really looked forward to was getting up there in the rafters. My muscles clenched across my back. Yeah, missed the ropes, the high bars, swinging like a monkey.

As the soles of our shoes hit the metal rungs of the staircase going up, there was a scrape and a ringing sound. I had a sharp image of Duo and Heero doing the same thing. It came and went in a flash. Funny that I'd associate them with the sound of metal.

"The collection here is really very experimental art," Tod explained.

I tested the structure and wondered if the supports would hold if I tried a few pull ups, maybe even a somersault?

"Oh, how can you lean out like that?" he asked me. "I get vertigo, I think."

Heights had never bothered me. I imagined that I had been a bird in a former life, but I knew it had to do with my college gymnastics and circus background, whatever that had been. Catherine had photo albums she'd kept with pictures of me at different ages doing a bit of everything. I'd been the animal keeper and acrobat, a clown and a knife thrower; at least, according to the pictures. I'd have to have Catherine show those to Quatre. He was into costumes; he'd get a good laugh from the clown pictures.

"I don't. Great view from up here."

I looked out over the railing to see figures bobbing to the best of the music and couples hunched over tables, heads together to be heard over the noise. Somewhere down there was my boyfriend, but I couldn't make him out in the gloom. I'd never been out with anyone like Quatre, of that I was sure. He was cute and caring, but also rather more daring that I'd thought he would be. He hadn't made many moves on me yet, though. So far, we could have been cousins. Maybe he was waiting for _me _to act. I could do that, couldn't I?

Hell. If a pretty boy like Duo couldn't get anywhere with him, what chance did I have? A good one, I guess, because it was Quatre that invited me on this overnight. I had to keep reminding myself of that. And I did.

When Tod tapped me on the shoulder, I remembered where I was and that he was standing there. I turned around and noticed the whitewashed brick wall to his other side was dotted with paintings and drawings framed each in a unique style.

"Watch your head!" he pointed out. Above us hovered a mobile which dipped and swayed with the air currents, nearly clipping me. I must have had another inch in height over Tod.

I read one of the more garish painting's label aloud: "'Psychological Studies.' A bit strange. It one looks like one of my bad dreams."

"I guess its something you share with the artist. The common theme to these pieces is symbolism. You ever study art? You have a feel for interpretation."

"Not that I remember, but I think I'd like to."

"So, you thinking more like you'd want to come here again? You'll make friends, I promise."

There was that push again, but it was an honest offer of friendship, I think. I saw the earnestness in the guy's face, and blushed hotly. I wasn't sure if he was coming on to me or not. "I'm leaning more toward coming back sooner rather than later, I think."

Tod stepped into my personal spaced and gushed, "Oh, that's terrific. You'd love it here."

I had the uneasy feeling that I might have suddenly become the object of this young man's affection, which was not intentional or desirable from my point of view. I didn't want to say anything to hurt his feelings or insult him and make him mad. What if I was wrong? I'd been wrong before; at least I think I remembered asking a straight guy out by mistake once.

"Actually, I lived around here for awhile once. Now, I gotta good job in Sanc, so visiting is all I'll be doing."

Tod responded with a sympathetic smile. "Well, think about giving Nova one more try. Oh, here's my favorite piece!"

Half an hour later, we rejoined Quatre, Jay, and the girls back at our table.

"Jay suggested that we go to Cool Matter," Quatre said. "They've got a new conceptual art thing going on there. Or we can stay here longer, if you like, but Jay and Tod are heading out and the girls are hooking up with some other friends."

He was asking if I wanted to be with him or in the safety of numbers. I wanted Quatre all to myself. "Let's go then," I decided. "Complete our art an' alcohol tour. We still have the Cavern to go to, right?"

"Oh, yeah. I save the best for the last." He was beaming, so I know I made the right decision. I raked him over with my eyes. I couldn't help looking him over. _Did he know just how much skin he was showing?_ For a straight-laced business grad student, he was far more courageous in public than I had expected. I hoped it was a show for me.

Quatre and I wound our way out of the club and out the door. The streets were full of kids out on the town, just like us. It was party time. Everywhere we walked people paused and stared to mark our passing. I was tall, lean, and sculpted naturally by body tossing and gymnastics. And I sparkled.

And then I had Quatre, who could make a stir all by himself in any crowd with his otherworldly appearance, at my side; it was a sight no one could miss. I couldn't help notice that we were being drooled over by females and males alike, and my confidence in my attractiveness grew. I would occasionally meet the eyes of some attractive girl and smile. It was fleeting and anonymous, and I avoided the pretty guys like the plague, so it wasn't very brave of me, but it was something.

He and I bumped hips and smiled. The beers had loosened him up a little, that and the friends. I bet that he had set this all up with his sister before leaving Sanc. And it, well, it had sure paid off. Me? Had I been out on my own I would have been smashed by now, but not happier. What made it good was Quatre, not the booze or the music, just him.

Duo had told me that Quatre wasn't much of a drinker, and he was right. It amused me how my blonde gladiator had been carefully regulating both of our consumptions of alcohol. I hadn't said anything to the contrary, except when I asked for that beer when I think it was 'soda turn'. He'd taken that in stride. Hadn't enforced his rules. He'd even had a drink with me. Mexican beer…with lime.

Man, he was awfully cute and entirely different looking from his usual khaki slacks and button-done oxford shirt with a vest. I know I kept thinking about that, but he really just had on straps of leather on top and a short skirt-- a kilt. See the legs? They lead right up to… oh, fuck.

He looked really hot.

I'd just let him continue to be the one doing the ordering. If I had his strategy correctly figured out, the next place we entered would be a no-alcohol stop. He seemed happy to have a modicum of control over me. Well, more than that. I wondered if he'd be that aggressive later in bed, but his being so inexperienced made it hard for me to imagine it. He hadn't even been able to look at the bed in the hotel. Oh, course, neither had I.

I'm sure he never felt he was the one in control when we was with Maxwell—that made me smile. But then I'd only ever really seen Duo at work and as my boss. Still, I couldn't see Quatre in control there. So, letting Quatre feel in command around me maybe would give him the courage to have sex. So it was all for his benefit, and mine. Yeah, sure.

"You look like you're having fun. Are you?" Quatre asked me as we strolled to the next club.

"Yeah, actually, I am. I haven't obsessed about my forgotten past for the last few hours. I haven't given a moment's thought to that random birth certificate, and how it is that my mother wasn't who I thought she was. And I don't care right now."

"Did looking at the art exhibit do all that for you? Wait till you see this exhibition."

He was about to skip ahead, but I grabbed his hand. "Hey."

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"No, but I thought we could walk together." I looked down at our hands and locked fingers, and then slowly raised my eyes to his face. "Okay?"

God, he was so cute. His smile was just for me.

"I wasn't sure if you wanted to advertise." His voice was low, his eyes wide and sincere.

"You're kidding. I'd wear rainbows and… and lipstick, if you asked."

He laughed and leaned into me. "You are wearing lipstick _and_ eyeliner, or did you already forget?"

I had. "Doesn't mean I didn't _mean_ it."

"I know," he whispered in my ear. He had to stand on his tiptoes to reach.

I don't remember the walk from there to the next club as it was. What I remember was holding Quatre's hand and feeling this upwelling of pride inside. There were lights and music and the ground moved beneath our feet carrying us forward. He had this silly laugh, half giggle, and this brilliant smile, but genuine kindness shown from his eyes. I was a goner. Going, going, gone.

Poof! My memory clicked in again.

"Cool Matter Club. Yeah, I've been here. I know this place," I told him. "I remember that it had formerly been an old house and that the owner had died awhile back. There hadn't been any family interest in living there, so it stood empty for years until the youngest grandson saw it as an opportunity, and poured the rest of his inheritance into creating a unique club."

"Really? I'm glad your memory of the place is so clear," Quatre said looking surprised, "but how did you know all that?"

"Read it," I smiled, "right here on this framed review. See? '…and poured the rest of his inher…'"

"Oooh, you are so mean!" Quatre laughed and pounded on my shoulder. Hard.

"Man! Do you work out or something?" I asked.

"Or something." Back came the sunshine. One thing about Quatre, he couldn't hold an angry expression very long. "Lightweight boxing, if you have to know. At school."

"I like a fighter," I said, and, yeah, I put as much innuendo into it as I could.

My little gladiator's face, neck and chest turned red. Aw, I embarrassed him again. "Shall we go in?"

I nodded and he jerked on my arm. I did have some recollections of the club. It still had many rooms, which partitioned off different activities. Dancing occurred in the 'front room'; the bar occupied what had once been a kitchen.

Conceptual art was exhibited throughout. In a 'bedroom' the floor was covered in turf, the grass crushed by the many feet passing through. The title: Outside In.

"Well, it smells like rotting compost," I said as I exited the room to check the next.

Quatre hesitated at the entry to the next room. "What do you think?"

"The cages are extreme, but the people inside them probably belong there."

He laughed. He always laughed at my dry humor. I loved to hear him laugh.

"You don't mind if I skip this one?"

He could skip anything he wanted. I was so totally captivated by him it scared me. "No. If you pass the bar, I'd like a beer. Something simple."

"Okay!" Quatre fairly lit the room with another dazzling smile. I could love him just for that smile.

When he was out of sight, I approached one of the cages with a girl inside. It was 4 feet by 3 feet, so I crouched low beside it to talk to her. "So, how're you doing in there? Need anything? Food? Water?"

"Yeah, but then I'd have to go and my shift's not over for two more hours so... no...thanks. You part of a show?" She had an unkempt look, but I thought it had something to do with her incarceration.

"No, this is...natural," I said as I gauged her response.

She took in my exotic sparkly hair, which couldn't possibly be natural, then shrugged. "Nice."

"You get paid to do this?"

"No, I'm a grad student doing a favor for a friend. Over there, the girl in the smaller cage? It's her master's thesis. She'll help me out when the time come for me to do mine."

"Oh, so you're a student at the university."

"Yeah, isn't everybody?" she asked.

I smiled. It was funny that she mistook me for another student, maybe one her age. "Yeah, mostly. Well, see you around, eh?"

"I'll see you for sure. Maybe you'll do a thing for me?"

"For one of your art projects? Not likely. I got this job in Sanc now."

"That's cool. I'm Nicene."

"Trowa."

I left the room and went looking for Quatre, wearing a wry smile and decided that everything was going to be just fine. I could work and save money, then get Quatre to room with me and come back here on holidays. Here. I could get to think of this as a second home, I was sure of it. Well, maybe. I'd see. Quatre would have to agree.

I located Quatre on the dance floor. So much for my beer. He was a shrewd one. He was going to be oh so agreeable, yet deny me enough drink to get sick.

He was dancing alone, or with five other people, it was hard to tell. Feeling good about life in general and Quatre specifically, I danced out to meet him. We stayed with a mixed crowd of guys and girls for the next few songs. The music was alternative from local bands passing out free CD's trying to get publicity.

At one point, I found myself pinned between two guys, getting closer than comfortable. Using my athleticism, I leaped and spun and slid out of the ever tightening cluster, and took off to join up with Quatre again.

"Thirsty?" I asked.

"Am I? Yes, and famished!"

We floated over to the bar, where we both ordered sodas and nachos. I asked the expert, "Why is it that there are so many... you know..._gay_ guys at these bars?"

"They're mostly gay bars." Quatre took a long drink and let his words soak in. "You have two kinds of bars here. There are the hip hop music bars and the gay bars for different music. Oh, well there's a biker bar and a couple other rough hangouts, but I didn't think those were for us."

He smiled prettily and I agreed automatically that places like that weren't for _him_. For me, maybe, but definitely not for Quatre Raberba Winner.

"Anyway," he went on, "most folks end up infiltrating the gay bars and turning them into mainstream. Plus the lines are fuzzy."

"What lines?"

"All kinds of lines, Trowa. Like the one parting you from your missing past. Or the one separating your working with Duo and dating him, and keeping me from still being with him. Then there are the lines you don't seem to want to cross with me."

A sudden daring took control of my body and I moved on him. "Oh? So, you wouldn't mind if I did this?" I leaned in and brushed his lips with mine. And from the enthusiastic response, I gathered that he didn't mind at all. I'm not a demonstrative person, especially in public like that, but I wanted him so much.

Desire really can drive you nuts. This time it drove me to kiss him for the first time. Right there at the bar. In public.

We parted reluctantly when a knot of kids bumped us. I cleared my throat which had constricted up with excitement. "Um, we have one more club to go to?"

"Yeah, if you want to, but it's a special one."

"Let's get going then."

I was curious about this Cavern club, but I was about ready to get my hands on my little fighter. We left the Cool Matter Club with dispatch heading uptown. Along the way a familiar looking place caught my eye.

"How about that place over there?" I pointed out _Hot Rocks!_

"Hip hop music and druggie hangout," Quatre said simply.

"Heh, heh... sounds like the dorms I used to lived in." I smiled at the not-so-old, tattered scrap of memory I had of my college days before I moved into my current apartment.

Quatre gave me a rare suspicious look. "Were you a party guy?"

"Shit no. I was a chem. major! I was in labs for hours on end and had too much work to do much. Hey, I'm clean. Weaned off pain killers, no growth hormones, or anything. I'm sure I was clean back in college, too, whether my memories are complete about that time or not. I know I haven't changed that much. I'm not a very social guy."

"Just social enough," he assured me. "I avoid drugs too, which can be hard at college get-togethers, can't it? I mean, you escape reality and you quickly run into a dead end."

"I'd tell someone considering drugs, to sit in on a few autopsies and see what it does to you. The kids are heartbreakers and the older folks are pitiful."

Quatre held up his hands to ward off any explicit descriptions, and then broke into low-toned giggles. "I'm clean, too! I'm convinced! Please don't make me watch you do an autopsy!"

Trowa nodded. "Squeamish."

"I'm not…well, okay. I am. But that doesn't make me girly!"

"Heh, did I ever give you the impression I thought you were my tough little gladiator?"

"What _did _you think of me when we met in the coffee shop?" Now he wanted serious answers that I was loathe to talk about. But I'm not good at denying him what he wants.

"Of you? First off, I recognized you and I thought Maxwell was the luckiest fucker on earth."

Quatre's mouth fell open. "Then you knew who I was?"

"Oh, yeah. I had lost my memories for the most part. I knew nothing of my parents, my childhood, my…_anything_ except how to do my job and zip my pants, well practically, and yet…I knew you."

"Really? Pretty weird."

"Yes and no. I knew who you were, where I'd first seen you, and the color of your car, which in my college days was blue… That's how I knew you'd be important in my life. What other reason did my brain have to select you for me to remember? For some reason I knew we had no history together, that you never even knew I existed, but I think I was being given a chance to change that."

His eyes took on a dreamy expression. "Lust at first sight. How romantic."

Love not lust. But damn! I wasn't going to go _that_ far and say that on this trip.

"Ah, not exactly, but I had nothing to lose by hanging out at the coffee shop. Except, I got to like Maxwell—and Yuy. Man, _he_ was strange."

"Heero? Isn't he? He's an amazing artist, but there were times when he kinda scared me."

"There were times when I thought he was planning how best to _kill _you when you were dating Duo. He'd just stare."

"Ooh, don't do that!" Quatre pounded on me again for having given him the evil Yuy eyeball. "I could feel that he resented me, but I thought he hated gays."

"I hadn't known you were partial to men until you showed up hanging all over Duo. That was something that surprised me."

"I wasn't _hanging_ on him. I was trying to come out proud and not hide. What I didn't know was that Duo kept his homosexuality more hidden than that. I really blew it for him a few times."

"Yeah, that wasn't good for him. It helped me out, though. I couldn't guess who was what. I guess I don't read people very well," I admitted cautiously.

"And I read more about people than I want to."

"You've mentioned being rather sensitive. And that hypnosis thing you did? So, what can you tell about me?"

His expression underwent a rapid change from serious to wickedly mischievous; making me think of Duo at a moment I'd rather have not.

"You want in my pants so bad you'll go to anyplace, put up with anything from me."

Oof, that was blunt, and true! That was a surprise! I couldn't speak my mind, or I _could_ but my mind couldn't string two coherent thoughts in a row. "Wha--? I, ah, not true! No! I wasn't... what I…"

Quatre was holding his mid-section and laughing so hard he was bent double.

"Quatre? Cut it out. You know what I'm saying, right? Right? Stop it, Quatre! People are staring."

"Peeeeeeople are ssstaring!" Quatre howled like a maniac. "Trowa, look at us! People have been staring for blocks!"

At which point I caught a glimpse of and thought about those tiny black briefs under the kilt. And he was absolutely right. I wanted him bad, so bad. And he could tell. I was deeply embarrassed and wanted to disappear. I needed to get away, so I just took off at a full run.

"Trowa! Stop!"

* * *

End of Note Cards, part 3

TBC in Note Cards, part 4


	17. Note Cards, Part 4

**Greeting Cards**

This is a side story to Heero's greeting cards on-going story arc, featuring Quatre and Trowa's POV.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

**Warnings:** AU, male/male pairings, language

**Chapter 17 --**

**Note Cards,** **Part 4**

* * *

Oh, no!

Trowa didn't accept teasing well. I should have known better. He's so quiet and retreating at times I forgot he was that way for a reason—he didn't want to be the center of attention. I relished it, he didn't. He just kissed me too! He took a chance and I made fun of him.

"Trowa! Hold up!" But I was shouting to Trowa' retreating back. "Slow down! Stop! I'm sorry."

I caught up to him and continued to apologize. "Trowa, I'm sorry, really. Believe me, please. I'm sorry I made a scene. I mean it! I'm truly sorry I laughed at you. Please slow down and talk."

Trowa slowed down, but he didn't stop walking. We had been having such a great time together and I hated for misunderstandings to ruin it all, no matter who was the temperamental one—him or me.

I wanted to explain. "You see, I was the youngest and the only brother with many, many sisters, so I grew up taking all kinds of ribbing all the time. I forget you were practically an only child. It must have been lonely."

He recognized a propitiatory gesture when he heard it, and cooled off immediately. "Sorry. Just needed some space."

"That's okay. It was my fault." And then his eyes changed as I stared into them. I allowed my empathy to kick in fully and I could tell he was looking inside and back into his past. Where a void had been memories flooded in and I could feel him fighting to keep his head above it all and communicate. It was a painful and wondrous and terribly frightening experience.

"Trowa? Relax. I'm here."

He acknowledged me and took a deep breath or two first. "It's okay. I remember something…when I was a kid."

I rested my hand on his shoulder, and steered him off to the side, away from traffic, into the doorway of a closed storefront. He stood there breathing hard.

"Take your time. So much of our emotional development gets formed when we are young and its effects over time can be far-reaching."

He nodded, and then he started talking. "Yeah, guess so. It's just weird not knowing then knowing… just like that."

"So, what did you remember this time?"

I felt so close to him when he was open like this. Of course, he probably felt vulnerable, but I think we were forming a bond of trust that helped. He searched my eyes for support and I gave it with the best smile I could muster.

"Well, I guess as a kid I was spoiled rotten and neglected at the same time for the most part. I was on my own most the time. My parents were both working so I stayed with this 'Doctor S.' It was crappy when I was little, but after awhile I liked the freedom and the stuff."

We just stared at one another, Trowa's eyes owlish.

"You really do remember?" I said in a whisper, afraid to break the mood.

He just nodded. The realization that real childhood memories were coming back was overwhelming him, I could tell. I could feel the emotions rolling off him then spinning around in eddies on and on.

"I lived in a giant laboratory."

"That, that's good, I mean, that's good that you're remembering. What else?"

But it was too much to process, I think. He just shook his head. I thought I'd help him along by sharing a little about myself.

"I was born in a lab, too. A very difficult birth that my mother didn't live through."

"Oh? Um, I'm sorry ..."

I swallowed hard. "Things work out, Trowa." I took his hand and held it firmly until he squeezed back. "Things will work out, I just know it."

"How do _you_ know that anyway? You a mind reader now?"

"Okay, I don't _know_, but I _believe_ we make our own destinies_._"

"Says the inheritor of a fortune," Trowa snapped, but from the haunted look in his eyes I knew he regretted it instantly. "Sorry, I take that back. You're trying to make me feel better."

"Trying to make you feel better about _yourself_!" I watched as Trowa' eyes softened. He looked lost in thought, so I gave him a quiet moment.

Trowa's face darkened again.

"You're thinking about something from your past," I ventured to draw out his story a little at the risk of being cut off.

"I was suddenly struck with the difference between how you and my few other close friends treat me and what I remember of my own family. I remember getting one card for my birthday. My parents sent me a single card. One damned card! That's all they ever gave me! And I don't know what I did with it or what happened to it. Or to them!"

The sudden switch in subjects and his intensity and anger caught me off guard, but I listened.

"How could a mother not care about her son?" he asked me.

That raw anguish, the feeling of abandonment was cutting. It hurt me! "I don't know, Trowa. Maybe you didn't live with them for very long. Maybe she was distant by nature? Some people are just that way and aren't expressive." Like you much of the time.

"I never wanted to admit to myself that she didn't love me."

"And you shouldn't! You were a child and uninformed. You may have felt left out, but she loved you. They both loved you. Your parents must have cared deeply or they wouldn't have provided for you."

"What do you mean?"

"Catherine was a child, when you joined her in the circus, right? She couldn't have afforded to provide for you and the circus wouldn't have taken just anyone in, especially charity cases. That means along with you must have come a settlement. The circus folks must have been paid. And later you attended an expensive university, so they must have left you an inheritance to draw from."

"That's… possible. One I don't remember? That's…something I never considered."

"Well, if in doubt, always follow the money trail." I felt him calm down. "Tell me about Catherine."

"Catherine, she's a cousin, but to me more of a sister. She was my best friend at the circus. She was the one who told me my parents had died and that's why I was sent to live with her in the circus. "

"Death was the final and most absolute abandonment. Oh, Trowa, I do understand. And I know Duo suffers from fears of being left behind and rejection. He was never adopted from the orphanage he grew up in, did you know that?"

"No."

"He doesn't know I know and I'm not telling you how I know because you'd get the wrong idea—"

"He talks in his sleep."

"Why…yes, he does." The temptation to ask Trowa how he knew that little detail was on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed it quick as a bunny. He could ask me the same thing. "It happened at the movies, He fell asleep and he started talking. I figured out what he was talking about and then woke him up and made him go home."

"I knew you weren't in bed together, Quatre. I believed you when you told me you guys… hadn't. Ah…" He smiled fractionally. '"Must have been one hellova movie."

"French film festival on the Sanc campus," I said receiving an eye roll in return. Obviously my poor choice for something to take Duo to, but I hadn't known him well at the time. "He didn't make it through 'L'avocat de la Terreur.'"

"A documentary with about communists?" Trowa snorted. "Too slow. You would have done better taking him later to see some hot action in 'Les Amitiés Maléfiques'."

"Y-you like French films?" I was amazed.

"Mais oui?" He was teasing me now, I could tell, for underestimating him.

"My point is," I had to get Trowa back on track and not thinking about me and Duo. "Fear of abandonment is hard to get over, but maybe if we learned more about you? Oh, I know you've tried, but I can help."

"Go on."

"Well for instance, the circus in the L3 area isn't far from here. It's possible that you even lived close to Nova. We can find out where the circus camps are or were six or so years ago. Visit any of them, if you like?"

"Yeah, and I'm beginning to think there's something to that. It could explain a few things." His beautiful sad eyes met mine. "Would you go with me?"

"Of course I'd do that. Nothing could stop me. You're coming to grips with all this and I want to be there with you all the way."

"Yeah, thanks. Nothing I can do about it tonight, so, to quote Duo, 'What the hell. I should have fun,' right?"

"That's the idea," I agreed, sharing a quick smile with him.

We resumed our leisurely walk. As we approached a small crowd of garishly dressed young people waiting to enter a club, Trowa had to get closer to read the name above the door. Written in an old fashioned script in white lettering on black, and under-lit with a yellow light, the sign read: The Cavern.

"So, what do you think Heero and Duo are doing right now?" I asked.

"Probably eating, having a good time. They'll be relaxed, well rested and bored, ready for Sunday's play practice."

"That's boring?"

"Maybe. Duo likes action and lots of it. His idea of a good time would be skydiving, if he could afford it." Trowa looked me over for the hundredth time. I just knew this outfit was the right one to wear!

"I'll bet you collected stamps as a kid," I said.

Trowa looked at me askance. "Are you saying I'm boring?"

"You're cautious. What makes you think collecting stamps is boring, anyway?"

"Well, the circus traveled from place to place. It was something to collect. Yeah, I actually did," he admitted, which set me off laughing again. "Don't ask why I'd remember a stupid thing like that."

This time, Trowa just sighed, folded his arms protectively over his chest, and asked, "So, why doesn't everyone just go in instead of standing outside, speaking of _boring_?"

"The Cavern is an exclusive club. They're waiting for the door to open. That tall thin man is Gabriel, whose job it is to ID kids and admit only those on 'the register,' which is a mysterious list he keeps in his head. Next to him is Spauld, the bouncer. If Gabriel gives you the okay, then you get in, but if not, you'd better leave or you'll meet the hard end of Spauld."

"Will we get in?" "You're dressed for battling your way in," Trowa said with a wry smile. "But he won't know me, or what if he does from some ugly past incident that's put me off his list? Would you help me beat up Spauld to get in?"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? Would it keep your life from being _boring_?"

Trowa elbowed me in the ribs. I was in a good mood and so was he. I really appreciated his unflappable side. "All right, I'm sure he will adore you, just wait."

Trowa sneaked looks at the other kids around him and noticed that they were all as adorned with heavy eye makeup he and I. That made him feel better about his own ornamentations—I could _feel _it.

And then Gabriel spotted us. Gabriel was my height, but he was dangerously slim and had an unhealthy coloring, like someone who smoked and partied nightly. "Kitty-cat! What'sup, dude?"

"I'm doing well. You?"

"Tight, man. Ohmygods! I _love_ him! Is this boy for real? Where did you find him? He is absolutely precious. Can he sing?" Gabriel would have continued to gush over Trowa for some time, had I'd let him.

"Trowa, this is Gabriel, part-owner of the club."

"Call me Gabby…"

"And this is Trowa. I'd like to show him a classy place." I stepped closer to the entrance and stuffed a one hundred dollar bill into the man's hand. "That ought to handle the cover charge. We haven't much time."

"Oh, of course you can take him in. Go on, go on. I'll find you at break," Gabriel waved us past the herd. A wave of complaints followed as kids excluded from entering made their sentiments clear.

Trowa was about to express his resentment at being singled out in that manner, I guessed, when we were sucked into a velvet darkness of the narrow entry. I nudged him a few steps, where he was forced to turn, and then stopped. He had to adjust to the change in light, beginning with the haunting illumination coming from the enormous bar, which was lit solely with tiny twinkling lights behind glass etched in the shapes of underground stalactites and blue neon tubes spelling out The Cavern above the gleaming black counter.

I tapped him on his shoulder and pointed in the other direction. He gasped in awe; his attention drawn to a mesmerizing dance floor, dimly lit from beneath with sulphurous-hued lights that pulsated in rhythm with the music's beat. The floor reminded me of a deep underground mineral pool which was wide where we could see it, and then branched off, flowing in multiple directions, like the arms of an octopus.

Seating appeared to be carved out of the rock-face interior, giving patrons private caves to hide in or larger gathering places for parties.

"There are several rooms, one has the stage and band and the music gets piped all over," I told him.

"There's a band?" Trowa asked, his eyes already dancing with the music.

"Oh, yeah. The cover charge pays for the band and gives them control over their clientele. What do you want to do first?"

"See the band," Trowa answered me without a moment's thought.

(o)

"Do you like that band?" I asked. Trowa seemed drawn to music, but so far, I hadn't been able to talk him onto the dance floor.

"They're great. Too loud, but good. I'm having the time of my life. Thanks, Quatre, for putting up with me."

"Oh, pooh. There's nothing to 'put up with' as you put it. This has all been my pleasure, but I think that if we move to one of the other rooms, one of them is liable to have the sound system turned lower so we don't have to shout to me heard."

"Oh, yeah? Sounds chill."

I took him by the hand this time and guided him to another, quieter part of the club.

"So..."

Trowa looked up at me and met my eyes. "So?"

"Wanna dance?"

Trowa' voice caught in his throat. "Um..."

He wasn't ready to be _that_ gay, I guessed. I pulled him closer to me. "Or, if you want, I could get us some girls. Come on. Oh, and did I tell you that it's 'Trans Nite'?"

"Ah, no. What's 'Trans' night?"

But I just laughed and loped on ahead, leaving Trowa to weave his own way through the crowd. Gay bar or not, not many guys were dancing together and I didn't want to push my luck with Trowa. For all I knew, he had some bad dating memories that could surface. Once we were alone tonight, we'd settle our preference question in bed, or at least that was my naughty plan.

I collected a group of girls to join us and we all fooled around and did crazy moves trying to out stupid one another. After we danced enough to work up a thirst and our dance partners had disappeared into the murky depths, I excused myself to the men's room.

While I was gone, Trowa apparently took it upon himself to order up a drink for himself. That man needs me to look out for him and he knows it! He's the type to get seduced by the colorful drinks. And blondes in leather, apparently.

(o)

"May I help you?" asked the young waitress.

"Ah... sure. I'd like one of those." I pointed to a tall glass of poisonous blue. I was thirsty and it fit the bill.

"A Blue Lagoon? Sweet. Would you like this delivered to a table?"

I was stumped a moment, then noticed an empty one not far away. If Quatre could secure tables I could too. He'd find me. "That one, please."

"Okay! I'll be right back with that drink, sir."

I slipped into the stone-look booth flooded with pleasure at my first independent move on the Nova club scene -- with my new boyfriend.

"Here ya go, and I brought you an order of nachos and 'skins'. Interested?"

I was. I paid for the drink and accepted the house munchies with some degree of apprehension. I mean 'skin'? I did a cursory examination of a 'skin' and found an absence of pores and hair; it was, in fact, a fried potato peel, very good and very salty. They called them 'peels' in Sanc and my memory hadn't jogged to help me out this time.

The drink was cold, sweet, alcoholic, and gone in three long swallows. One drink didn't quench my thirst, so I ordered another, and another. Somewhere in between, I consumed a basket of pretzel sticks and bowl of salted peanuts, and then the third drink hit me.

Quatre appeared magically and jabbed a finger at the just-emptied glass at my elbow. "What's that?"

"Blue La-goon," I muttered. "No, that was the first one. This was... Orange...orange..."

Quatre sniffed the glass, "Orange rum, orange Curacao, pineapple juice, orange juice, which might make it an Orange-utan. That's my guess. You're going to be sick."

"I already am."

Quatre directed me to the men's room and told me he'd check in on me later.

I wasn't a novice. I was stupid. I needed a caretaker, I guess, and mine had only been gone a few minutes. How pathetic. Nothing like making a great impression.

After emptying my stomach the hard way, I started feeling better. I washed my mouth and hands and stared in the mirror. At least I hadn't smeared my eyeliner!

I was staring at the door, when Quatre walked in, and asked, "How's it going?"

"Better."

"It's okay," Quatre said. "I thought I was doing well, but managed to develop a headache."

"You want to go?" I smiled.

Quatre met my eyes. "I took an aspirin. I'll be fine, but yes, I would. We can come back again."

"Cool."

Decision made, we walked out of the men's room. Quatre, I thought, looked rather pasty; his lips paler than usual. I ran down a taxi for the short ride back to the hotel. It was the kind of thing I could do for him that he'd appreciate, and I didn't mind sitting so close to him my hand brushed his bare thigh. The golden hairs tickled the back of my hand and that's about all I could think about.

I guess having done the taxi thing gave me the right to lead him to our room, zip my keycard to unlock the door, and allow him to enter first while flipping on the lights.

And once the door closed behind us, I was wrapped in Quatre. Leather spicy aftershave, sweat, and Quatre.

"I could use a shower. Want to join me?" he asked.

He'd asked me to strip down naked and shower with him, just like that! We'd kissed once! Where had all his earlier inhibitions gone to, I wondered, but not for long. I knew a good deal when I had one undressing in front of me.

"This strap has been cutting into my shoulder all night, See?"

_Oh, yeah, I saw._ "That's too bad."

"You should get out of that hot shirt," he told me.

"Yeah," I agreed. I should do that, and I did as I watched the buckles unclasp and the leather fall to his feet. He was nicely defined with flat rounded pecs with tiny nipples and a nice flat stomach. He was almost completely hairless, but I could just make out some hair beneath his armpits, and maybe a little bit on his stomach, but other than that his faintly tanned body was smooth, well… apart from his legs, which were lengthening right before my eyes.

"I don't know how girls do it. I think it was too chilly for this kilt." He looked up and his calculating gaze raked over my chest. I felt measured and assessed, but then the way I was looking him over was pretty deliberate, too. He smiled playfully, and shimmied out of the kilt. It landed on the floor with a thump. All he had on were those tiny, black briefs. So small his erection was showing nosing its way out the top. "Brr…"

_I should warm him up, I decided._ All that expanse of Quatre-skin and I had to touch it. I crossed the few feet between us. When he turned away and toward the bathroom, I could make out his nice, round backside through his tiny, black briefs, and I could feel my hard-on about to rip open my pants.

I caught him be the arm and pulled him closer. "Mine," I whispered. I kissed a red spot on his shoulder blade where the leather had irritated the skin. My arms encircled Quatre's waist from behind. "So good." There was nothing like holding that hot body against mine, except I had on too many clothes.

"Trowa," he moaned softly. "I feel so ...weak."

"It's OK, I've got you," I whispered softly back into his ear. As his head fell back, my warm breath moistened his neck. My arms slid forward and wrapped around the front of Quatre's upper body in a sensual, caressing hug.

As the strength drained out of his body, my arms loosened, I was strong enough to support him, but I loved the gentle friction across my body as he slowly slid down through my grasp. As my fingers slid slowly from Quatre's waist over his torso, he moaned so loudly that I worried if maybe it was more than Quatre could take? It was all giving me an incredibly pleasurable feeling. Was I intentionally letting him fall, just distracted by the overwhelming sensuousness, or just trying to gently ease him down to the floor?

"Feels so good...," Quatre whispered as he went completely limp.

He added his hands over mine as they slid over his body and down under his briefs and over his erection, and gave another sexy moan. I took that as an invitation to touch more and cupped his pink balls. They instantly tightened against his body.

"Oh, Trowa! I'm…I'm…"

And then I watched him writhe through what had to have been an extremely pleasurable release.

To Hell with the shower!

I scooped him off the floor and tumbled him on the bed, a little rough, but he was heavy and mostly legs. "Stay put," I barked hoarsely.

"I'm kinda sticky…" he pointed out.

"Yeah." With a zip and a tug I offed my jeans and shorts. There could be time for slow and sensuous another time.

Quatre solved his problem by kicking off the covers and wiping down with a sheet corner. His head lolled to the side to watch my progress. I caught his eyes widen when I put a knee on the bed. His hand snaked out and stroked my erection.

"You're _huge_!"

I'm not really, but there is no man on the planet who doesn't like to hear that.

"Your hands are small," I told him. And then I kissed him like I meant it.

If I'd had to watch those lovely lips move a moment longer I might have gone mad with wanting. He never left his grip on my dick. It was as if once he saw it he couldn't get enough of it. That was so hot.

So was his tongue, muscling into my mouth. I'd never been kissed so aggressively. It made me hotter and start plunging, pumping into his hand, craving the friction.

"Oh, God, Quatre!" I could pull in and out and my entire body was shaking, squirming like a fish caught on a hook. "Let me…"

I wanted in him so bad.

His hand left my dick so he could use it to maneuver around and get some leverage. We wrestled around for position, all the while deepening our kiss and maintaining full body contact. He flipped us. He was rock hard and ready for action. On top!

I bet Quatre had never even considered I might want to be on top. Every thing so far has gone exactly as planned for him, after all. And what were the odds that we'd both be sexually dominant? Deep in my subconscious I knew I'd never bottomed for anybody. I had the creeping suspicion that if I let Quatre take over now, I might never keep him in place. I should have known he'd be an assertive personality and want to top me. We were going to have to negotiate for the right. And, God help me, we would have to learn to trade off, too. Or just let me win. Yeah, sure.

We ended up on our sides, nose to nose.

"I can't believe this." Quatre was stumped. "What are we doing? What's… all this about?"

"I want…_you_."

"Me? But…but…!"

I stroked his hair down to his chin. "Yes. You."

I could tell he was thinking this turn of events over, proving my theory that he was used to things falling into place for him and that he thought he was in control here in bed. I turned the tables on him.

"Quatre, you can't get your way all the time, and this is one of those times."

"I don't understand what you mean. We're in bed, fooling around. You don't want that?"

The little minx was cunningly messing with my head while dotting my neck with little kisses between words. He ran his fingers up and down my legs. My brain fogged over.

"Yeah." What was my point? "And I came prepared."

"But…!"

"Not that we have to… use anything. We don't have to unless you want."

"What I want?"

"I'll make it good for you. It can just be more sex… or we can make love," I told him, and got his undivided attention.

"I've never gone this far. Ever."

"I have, but I don't remember it." And we both laughed.

"That hardly counts!" he said, giggling.

"I have an idea." I had to stop asking and start doing. This wasn't the time for first-time, penetration sex. Neither of us had the stamina to last more than a couple minutes at anything.

I swung a leg around so that my feet were where my head had been. I reoriented myself on my side but with my face in his crotch and raised his leg over my shoulder. I didn't wait for him to catch on. He was a smart guy. He could figure it out.

I didn't know if he would like giving me a blowjob, but I was game to try. If he copied what I did to him, he'd do just fine. When I licked his dick, he cried out my name. When I tongued his piss slit he got the picture and found my balls and ran his tongue all over them. We could do this like equals. That was a start.

I really got off on his sweet, pink cock. Mine was red and angry and I could feel my resistance was about shot. It felt so good whatever he was doing to me. Then he was pumping my shaft and sucking the tip and I almost convulsed, hunching over as my breath caught in my chest and my head felt spinning dizzy with the pure horny craziness of it.

"Oh!" My penis exploded with little rushing starlight going fast and soft-seeming arrows coming out and coming back over and over again. The arrows seemed to have feathers on their sides and made my cock feel like it is being tickled inside.

"Oh, God!" I loved it. I couldn't help it. I'm a fuckin' man, after all. My cock likes any attention it can get.

And then my fucking cell phone rang. I knew that particular ringtone set to "Yuy".

"Fuck!"

"Just ignore it," Quatre told me.

"It's Yuy." I reached across him and grabbed my pants off the floor, fumbled for the phone.

"What?" I barked. "Uh, huh, bad timing no fuck. Uh, huh. Tell you what, Yuy. I'll come pick you up and you'll take us all to the Cavern." I looked at Quatre and shared a resigned shrug. "So, where are you?"

'That'll take us thirty minutes" I told him, although I don't know how I knew that.

"I gotta find my clothes. Okay, twenty. Yeah. Bye, then."

Quatre sat up, hair mussed adorably and my cum on his chin. I could have fucked him through the mattress. I know I growled. He laughed.

"What?" I growled more.

"I should call my sister. Borrow her car? My Miata won't hold Heero and Duo and you and me."

I tossed him my phone. "Christ, I forgot!"

"It's okay. I remembered. We make a pretty good team, don't you think? We understand one another."

"Yeah."

We were sharing the bathroom, running the shower for a quick cleanup by mutual decision. Quatre might think he understood me, but I completely got him. He likes directing our activities as long as I was going along with it, but relinquished that position to me when I pushed back, so I didn't see that was a problem.

I might not have had a clear picture of what my dating habits were before my accident, but my body sure did. I'd have to teach Quatre a few things.

"I have lots to learn to be a good lover, I can tell."

I kissed him for that admission. "It's something to learn together."

I never perfected the five minute shower. Quatre's sister wanted Quatre's Miata in trade for her fifteen-year old clunker. We were late to pick up Heero and Duo.

And Zechs, the Prince of Darkness, was there. And Yuy looked as if a storm cloud was raining on his good time. And Duo was flapping his arms for take-off and cursing a blue streak. Well, I guess I wasn't the only one who had my good time interrupted.

* * *

End of Note Cards, part 4

TBC in September Leaves, part 3

A/N: 'Note Cards' would have been a rather shallow, single chapter diversion, had my fellow writer, Waterlily, not insisted that I make Trowa and Quatre answer the tough questions. Thank you, N, for your perseverance in asking the right questions.


	18. September Leaves, Part 3

**Greeting Cards**

This is an on-going story arc, based on Heero's greeting cards, and updated monthly, at least.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

**Warnings:** AU, male/male pairings, language, some embalming and autopsies topics covered.

**Chapter 14 --**

**September Leaves,** **Part 3**

* * *

I awoke with a jolt. When I moved to turn off my watch alarm, I noticed a weight holding my arm to the bed. It took me nearly a minute to pick out Duo's features and comprehend who he was, and another one to recover from that realization. A very naked Duo was snuggled up to my equally naked side. It was a dream come true, which, sadly for me at the moment, I was unable to build upon.

Oh, I considered wrapping myself around him and enjoying him fully, but I had a purpose in coming to the island which was more time-dependent. I hoped to steal out, search for the evidence I sought, and then return to this precisely identical position. I was stupid enough to think I could get away with all that without Duo knowing. I wanted to protect him from any mistakes I might make. Get back and then share what I had discovered with him, and then later share it with Zechs. I did not like feeling as if I were in league with the devil. He was, after all, a respected part of the Sanc elite.

And considering the pills Duo had downed before crashing-- and I assumed he took some, although I did not see him do it-- he would remain dead to the world for hours.

I was pulling on my pants when I heard Duo's sharp intake of air. Caught.

"I can explain," I gasped out.

"'Sokay, 'Ro. I know where I am and remember clearly what we did."

He wasn't aware that I was dressed.

"What was that?" he asked.

"You hear the wolves. That can be scary, I know."

"Not scared," he grumbled. I didn't need light to see how embarrassed he was. "Where are you going?" he asked.

"Stay here. You shouldn't be running around an unfamiliar place. You'll be safer right here. I'll get things done faster without having to worry about you, and then I'll be back as soon as I can."

"I asked because I wanted to know, not to be put off with weak platitudes."

I reached for my shirt and sighed heavily when Duo got out of bed and kicked it out of my reach.

"I have some investigating to do. There is something going on here, I am certain, and it relates to the attack on you, to Trowa, Zechs, and the deaths you have been investigating. That last one was an employee here, you said."

Duo paused to absorb what I had said. He started to braid his hair. "I'm still coming up empty. You know more than you're telling me."

Unwittingly, and unfortunately, I used an arrogant tone of voice when I replied. "I know lots of things you don't, Duo, but I'm not discussing everything with you here and now."

He was holding me in a headlock before I could button a single shirt button. "Think again, love." He tightened his grip as I struggled to break free. "You're not leaving me alone in this place. I'm going with you. Nod if you understand."

I may have budged slightly.

"Just wanna put my nice greeting card away and put on my shoes," he said as he let go.

I had lost my will to argue the moment he had used the word 'love'. We were lovers now. We were _in_ love. And I had no choice but to include him in my plans since I could not lock him in his room.

"I need to carry this shoulder bag, that's all." It was a very special bag with a water-tight inner seal. It contained my gun and, in the outer pocket, a piece of glow-in-the-dark chalk.

"My bag's packed, if we gotta make a break for it."

"So is mine, not that it matters if it got left behind."

From the look Duo gave me, though, I could tell his possessions mattered to him. "Okay, we are going to the basement where there is an underground sewer causeway to the other facilities. I'll have Shari, whom I trust, load our things onto the plane and prepare it for take-off, just in case, though I hope to learn what I need to without being caught. If there's a storm coming, flying or sailing off the island may be impossible."

"Oh, I think it's coming, all right. The wind's blowing like there's no tomorrow."

"Then we'd better not waste any more time."

Contacting Shari in the middle of the night was no easy trick, but once done, she was understanding about our need to outrace the weather and took out luggage without further delay. I took Duo with me and hunted for the underground sewer entranceway.

I illuminated patches of the floor with my tiny, but bright, beam from my mini-flashlight, scanning deliberately for a particular marked cover.

"Tell me what you're looking for and I can help."

"It has a funny mark. This one!"

I pocketed the light, and then used both hands to yank open the heavy grate. With the top off, Duo peered into the dark pit. "Just how dirty is it down there?"

"It's a storm sewer. When it is dry, like now, it should be fine. After a storm, we would have to swim to pass through."

"Then we'd better haul ass; I'm not much of a swimmer. How do we get down?"

"There is a ladder, but it's about four feet down so you cannot see or reach it."

"Gimme a break. I'm from the streets of L2. Sewers are like the pedestrian highways. Just lower me into the hole."

It was too late to go back now, so I agreed. "All right."

It wasn't the dark or the unknown that bothered me much; I loved mysteries. It was the thought of all the disgusting things we might encounter down there and infect Duo's injuries. He must have thought about that himself, but still in a leap of faith, he sat on the edge, waiting for me to move. I locked onto his wrists and lowered him into the darkness.

"Kick in and you should hit the ladder." I hoped nothing had changed.

There was a metallic ring as Duo's hit the rungs after just a few seconds. "Contact!"

While still holding onto his wrists, I knelt lower to the ground until I flattened myself on the pavement around the opening. The movement must have alarmed him.

"Don't let go until I gotta grip here!"

"I will not let you fall, Duo."

"Yeah, well… Now, let go of my hands, right one first."

I released one arm but tightened my grip on the other.

"Okay, I'm on the ladder. You can let go now, 'Ro."

"Go on down a ways so I don't step on your hands." I recovered the chalk and sketched a quick mark to identify this particular exit. The one we would return through would be this one or ten past.

"Okay, there's room for you now."

I maneuvered the manhole cover back over my head as I joined Duo in the sewer.

"Is it just me or am I missing the romance in this?"

"It's dark and intimate?"

He chuckled with me. "I guess chillin' down here makes us even after my hot date with you in the morgue meltdown."

"God, Duo, that was…frustrating. At least you got to sleep in a nice bed on my date."

"Yeah." He sounded dreamy in a way that activated my lower regions.

"Time to move. Just keep going down. You'll hit the bottom rung in about twenty feet, then wait for me, or you can hop to the floor– about a three foot drop. No, better just wait for me at that point."

"As if I'd go running off alone," Duo grumbled. He might mouth off a lot, but he usually could do that and move fast at the same time. Like now. "Stumbling about in a sewer with no idea where I was headed in pitch darkness. Shit! Slippery!"

"Focus on your feet, baka!"

The only sound was that of our shoes scraping the rungs for a minute.

I did not want to take a chance on Duo diving into some nasty pit, so before he reached the last rungs, I jumped past him to the floor and switched on the overhead lights.

Duo cried out, "Christ! You coulda warned me or something!"

"Sorry." I was. I was so quick to protect him I forgot to tell him what I was doing.

From a hard-edged, cold, black pipe to a ghastly green glowing tube, our world was transformed instantly with the light.

"I should go first in case things have changed over the years. We have to keep moving, Duo," I said over my shoulder, leaving him no choice but to pick up the pace and run. "This is a causeway, so keep to the center where there's a raised walk, or you're likely to get your feet wet."

"Wet?" he shouted out.

"Sewers carry detritus in a current of water. Although it does not smell noisome, it takes little imagination to fill the concealed depths with foul things."

"Yeah, sure. Thanks."

Other than the firmness of the cement block beneath our feet, the situation was otherworldly. We ran through a fuzzy blackness with our beginning concealed and no visible end ahead, punctuated every ten feet by a dim luminous glow from the overhead service lights. It was endless, mesmerizing in its sameness. The sound of our heavy breathing and the sound of our footfalls were all we had to root our minds in the here and now.

My eyes remained focused on the path ahead and it felt good knowing that Duo trusted me to point out any traps or dangers. We ran a couple miles before I encountered a crossing, and slowed to a stop to consider which way to go.

Duo was thankful for the break to catch his breath. "Lost?"

"No, we can take either path. I was just waiting for you to catch up." It was a joke and I smiled to prove it.

"Smartass. I can keep up with you just fine."

I shook my head. Duo impressed me with his resiliency. "A few hundred more feet in this direction and we climb again."

"No problemo."

We trotted on until we reached the ladder. I leaped up and offered him a hand up.

"Showoff," he muttered, but I know he loved it when I flexed my muscles.

"What's above us?" Duo asked as we reached the top rung of the ladder and stopped. His hand grazed my ankle in his search for the next rung to hold onto. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"Research laboratory records. Ready? I'll climb up first, then give you a hand up."

I reached for the cover. My fingertips could not reach the opening when I stood on tip toes. "Shit."

"What's the matter?"

"Can't reach. The ladder was damaged and is missing a few rungs."

"Let me try."

Duo was taller than I and it was a stretch, but he was just tall enough.

"Just crack it and listen first."

"Gotcha."

He pushed the sewer cap open a chink and paused to listen. There was no sound or light coming from the room above. Satisfied that it was safe, he pulled himself up over the lip of the opening. It took two hands with some muscle behind it to lift me off the last rung. When I was steady on my two feet he embraced me in a brief hug. "Glad you're small. It makes me feel needed."

"Idiot," I muttered into his shirt. "I'm not that _much _shorter than you."

"Apparently you are." He rubbed his hand up and down the front of my pants, finding what he wanted to I might add. "Not that it matters in some departments."

"This is not the time for … this. Let me go. Please?"

The tightened his grip in a business-like manner. "I will when you tell me where we are."

"The door," I quipped, and was rewarded with a punch to my arm.

"Duo…" I actually was whining, and that would not do. He didn't now how sexually vulnerable I was or how submissive I could get. I cleared my throat and got myself under control. "We are in a utility space where the electrical and power supply lines run."

"That wasn't so hard to tell me, was it?" He caressed my arm and released me. "I'm not demanding answers to nearly as many questions as I've got."

"I will tell you when I can." Thankful that it was too dark to see my flushed state, I turned away before flicking on my micro flashlight to examine the area. I swept the beam over a far wall.

"Clear. Follow me and be quiet. There may be personnel on the other side of that door."

Duo nodded and adjusted the braid he had stuffed down his shirt. "Itches. Okay. Ready."

We crept out of the darkness into a dimly lit room. I could make out the hum of several computers and the light from their glowing screens, some blue, others green. In the shadows there stood tall filing cabinets and bookcases. I nudged Duo's arm and directed his attention to the far side of the room where another door appeared below a backlit sign warning them that they were entering a high security area. Clearly, this was where we wanted to be.

"What do they do here?" Duo whispered.

"Pathology; they run medical tests just like a hospital; at least, they used to." I put a finger to his lips and cautioned him to silence as I picked a path to the door.

Where you would expect a handle to be, there was a security lock activated by entering a code on the keypad. I wasted no time typing what Zechs had told me would work. With a mechanical click, the bolt drew back, and the door slid into the frame, making a sound of escaping air.

Duo frowned at me. "And you knew to do that _how_ exactly?"

"Zechs told me. He pulled together the information in your office. He discovered the necessary codes while doing some database investigation into Marshal Noventa's prints on record at the penitentiary."

"He should have told me about all this." His frown deepened. "So should've you. I'd really like to know when you two shared this mystery and decided not to include me, but I can wait for that explanation."

"Thank you," I said, trying to impart to him with my eyes just how grateful I was for his patience. His curt nod was enough support. It imparted forgiveness and understanding, and then everything was back to normal.

"Oh, wow," Duo gasped. "This looks like a scene from some futuristic movie, you know what I mean?"

He had kept his voice low, but I wanted him to say nothing.

"Shhhh... Yes. We must be quick. Opening that door may have alerted a guard monitoring the activity here. Every room is under surveillance. It is just a matter of someone doing his job or not."

I moved stealthily to a wall of lab tables and filing cabinets.

"How do you know this is the lab you're looking for?"

"I have been here before so I know where I am, and, as I said before, Zechs did a lot of sleuthing to locate where he wanted me to collect evidence. He is very skillful. He found a virtual layout for the entire complex, all but one area."

"This one, I take it?"

"Yes. The details were missing. He spent hours tracing links through databases, and what he found was disturbing. He needs concrete evidence and a few files ought to do it."

"I need to have a talk with Zechs concerning misuse of company computer time." Duo nudged my shoulder. "You _will_ tell me why you are doing this for Zechs, right?"

"Yes, Duo. Later." My eyes caught and trapped his. "I mean it. I promise."

"Right. Okay, then, sure we can find those few files in here?"

"Find them? Yes. Before we're caught? I don't know." I began searching a filing cabinet in a systematic manner.

The room was large and compartmentalized. When we had entered, the reflection of dozens of metal vats was visible from the black, glazed walls, but once the door closed and the outer light gone, the images were shielded behind smoky glass. I could see Duo in reflection, mincing about trying to be quiet and dying to be elsewhere.

"I'll just have a look around, then," Duo said.

"Don't go far. Stay out of sight. There might be someone on the other side of the partition. I don't know. We can't see through the dividers."

He let out a snort. "As if I hadn't more sense than a two-year-old!"

I hoped he had better survival instincts than a two-year old. I, of course, kept that remark to myself.

"I wanna peek at what's in those giant test tube things. They look like torpedoes."

I pulled out file after file, removing the contents and stuffing them into my shoulder bag. Zechs had been correct in assuming the paper file organization would mirror that of the computer database, which he had stumbled onto while researching Barton's whereabouts. At the time I wasn't entirely sure what the data represented. Many inmates of the penitentiary and of the asylum had been transferred to the lab section. This could be explained by a disease breakout or a mass riot, had it been a one-time occurrence. Instead, the medical records showed a constant flow of ten patients a day, year after year. Sometimes as many as twenty, or as few as five, but on the average ten souls were moved from their residences to the labs, never to return. The trail ended there, _here_.

What was being done to these people was recorded partly in meaningless code, the remainder in clear, passionless medical lingo, and it made my skin crawl. "Patient #395 injected with 10 cc of #48u48 extraction in collagen matrix."

Next, I moved to the computers, copying as many data files as I could find onto the external hard drive in my bag. Even I knew the importance of having hard copy evidence in a court of law. Zechs wanted to trace a couple of the inmates and their treatments through this lab to their subsequent destination. I located particular coded names, downloaded the files, and then moved to the next code.

I wondered how Duo was doing, how his jaw was, and where the Hell he had gone. I had to concentrate on moving as rapidly as possibly, while at the same time listening for interference. I could hear Duo's shoes creak, and then nothing else until he rejoined me several minutes later.

He tugged at my arm.

"What is it?"

"Y-you gotta come." His face was pale, his lips bloodless. Whatever he had seen, it had frightened him.

I closed my shoulder bag and my fingers felt for another tool hidden inside. His gun was secure and close at hand. I shifted the heavy bag over my back and out of the way. "Show me."

When Duo dropped to his hands and knees, I did, too. He guided me to the edge of one of the metal seven-foot-long tubes. One end was tapered and enclosed in brushed, non-reactive stainless steel. The other had a slightly raised dome of Lucite on the top side of the steel form.

"Look inside."

"Oh, my..." I was stunned, even after suspecting what we might discover from the data I had been collecting.

It was a human face, submerged in a gel-like material. The head was shaved, the eyes open and milky gray, the skin flawless, ageless.

"It can't be real, can it? I mean, it can't be alive in there; there's no air!"

The lights on the container's display showed otherwise. "Not that I can explain here, but..." I stopped. Duo was crawling over to another test subject.

"Same thing," Duo whispered. He pointed beyond the next dividing wall.

"No," I hissed. "We must leave." But he was out of earshot already.

"Fuck!" The outburst came from Duo.

I was on my feet and rummaging through my bag for my weapon. I should have stuffed the gun into my belt before I jammed bag full of papers. For the life of me I didn't know what I had been thinking. No, that is not true. I had been thinking about Duo. His injured jaw. His lips, his lips, his ass in tight pants… This was an unfortunate twist to the night's end.

As I ran, I could see Duo squirming, pinned in the arms of his abductor, trying to get a good look at him. I had to stop and look at what I was digging through to get at my gun. If I was not careful I would disorder the files.

"Getcher nasty slimy hands off me, bastard!" he shouted.

I looked up and sure enough, the protuberant lips, sallow complexion, and wall-eyed look made me think of some creature, and so did Duo. He spouted the first thing that came to mind. "You...fish-faced freakazoid!"

I knew that fish, er, man. He had attached Relena. Another one of Ty Keel's thugs. Sinbad? Sincity? Sin-Synapses were not firing in my head fast enough. All the blood was in my stomach carrying away my digesting food and leaving my brain bereft. How had he slipped the police? Don't they keep criminals jailed any more? Of course, Ty could afford to bail the guy out. My hunt was a success.

I pulled out my gun. Safety off. Aim. Do not shoot Duo.

Duo thrashed like a fish himself and broke free, but the attacker hurled himself at him. To avoid being squashed, Duo leaped onto a ceramic topped lab table. Upon it was a body. When Duo's foot failed to locate a stabilizing surface, I watched helplessly as he lost his balance and fell onto the flaccid torso. His arms shot out in time to hinder the impact, catching his weight before falling hard onto the body. He was staring down into a pink-skinned face like a wax museum character covered in a thick, clear, gooey substance, and where his arm touched the torso, it stuck.

"Ah!" he cried out. When he pulled away, it made a sucking noise.

It was horrible! Ready. Aim…

"No one calls Sidney names and lives!" the brute snarled.

_Sidney! _Yes, that was the name_._

Duo's head was turned, so he missed seeing the fish-faced thug grapple haphazardly at the array of dissecting tools arranged on the table beside the still figure and moved on Duo.

"Duo!" Ready, aim…STOP! DO NOT SHOOT DUO!

Duo swirled, his braid breaking free and whipping about in a most spectacular manner, while he kicked away at Sidney's outstretched arm. Duo also had picked up a weapon, in a movement so quick I'd missed it.

"Who?" Sidney asked, looking around like a dumbass and missing Duo's advance.

"That takes guts," Duo said with gusto, "accosting me."

I saw a flash of metal as Duo stabbed at the other man. He slid his blade in from the side of his midsection, then twisted and brought the blade to the front. In seconds, he dispatched the man. "Too bad yours are on the floor."

Sidney fell to the floor, blood and intestines spilling from his wound, fluid bubbling up his throat and out his mouth.

I winced and averted my eyes, feeling a wide range of horrific feelings at the moment, but I also was excited and feeling stronger in the super-charged atmosphere of the lab. I thought maybe it was the ozone in the air caused by the storm.

I hadn't even fired my gun. It was still in my hand. Cold.

I watched Duo clean his fingerprints from the handle before placing it in the fallen man's hand.

"You think that will look like a suicide?" I asked, figuring out what he was doing.

"If it confuses_ someone_, it might buy us time."

Time. I heard a deep rumbling and felt the floor shake infinitesimally. The sluice gates were opening to the sewers.

Time. I checked my watch. "We have ten minutes."

"Until what? What are those for?" Duo asked as I ripped the cushions off a desk chair.

"Floats. You'll see. The sewer floods. Help me get two more." With a grunt but no argument from Duo we collected what we needed, and tucked them under our arms. "Now run!"

We retraced their steps to the electrical maintenance room. I fought to open the sewer lid.

"I don't hear anyone after us, Heero."

"Not yet, but there will be --" My voice was drowned out by a shrieking alarm. "That was activated by a guard. Sidney must have triggered a warning signal someplace. I doubted that anyone had found his body yet. Here, give me your cushions. Go on. Climb down. We may yet get out of this."

This time when I climbed down after him, I could hear the rush of water.

"It's like a fucking river down here. The storm must have hit."

"It reached the mountains first; this is the run-off from that. If we hurry, we still might be able to fly out of here."

"Fly? Like a flying fish, maybe."

More than anything I wanted to reach out and re-assure him that we would make it out. "You can swim, can't you?"

"Yeah, but it's damn cold. What about the papers in your bag?"

I patted the bag. "Water-tight. They'll be fine. Now, I'm handing you two cushions. Can you reach them?"

Duo reached up and I pressed the chair pads into his hand. "Got it. So, I use these to float on?"

"Yes, that is the idea. When the cold constricts your muscles and they no longer keep you afloat, this should help."

"They aren't great."

"No, but the water is not yet deep and if we are lucky we won't need them at all."

"Right. 'Cause we've been so lucky this far."

I could sense his sarcasm along with his hesitancy to enter the water, and ached to ease his fears, but we had no time to waste. "I'm going around you. I'll test the depth."

I leaned into his warm hard body as I brushed past, then dropped into the rushing water. "Not yet three feet deep. Jump, I can support you."

Total darkness, a fast-flowing river of unclean water, uncertain footing– "All right!" he shouted and left his safe perch. "Ah!" he gasped as the icy coldness slapped his face. He was knee-deep and dripping, but his strong hand held mine and he felt steady. "O-okay. I'm okay, but don't let go, yet."

"I am going to turn the emergency overhead lights back on, Duo. They time out after a couple hours. Hold on to my belt."

That meant shifting the cushions to one arm and stuffing his free hand down my pants and holding onto the waistband with all his strength.

"This would be at lot hotter if it wasn't so cold," he quipped.

"Hn."

The light helped, barely. I guided us to the raised concourse and plowed forward. We made terrible time. I wished that the water would simply go away or get higher so we could swim. And then I heard a roar and knew a wall of water was coming at our backs. "Be careful what you wish for," I muttered to myself.

I had just enough time to shift the cushions to under one arm, wrap the other around Duo's waist, and shout. "Water's coming! Hold on!"

I could feel Duo clench on to me and then the water slammed into our backs.

The water lifted us off our feet and propelled us down the pipeline at over 20 miles per hour.

"Whooeee!" Duo crowed as we rode the wave. "Surf's up!"

We both found that we could maneuver the floats to help stabilize ourselves and keep our heads above water. At best the water wasn't over seven feet deep. Things could be worse, though, I did not want to think about how truly dangerous our situation was, since it would not help to get panicky.

Duo started shouting at me and so moved my head closer to hear. "How do we know where to stop?"

I couldn't explain how I had marked our exit earlier, until a chalk-drawn "DH" encircled by a tilted, roughly drawn heart appeared, luminescing faintly by the foot of a ladder. I pointed up with my nose and he saw it and smiled. Water had lapped at the bottom point and washed it off, but the glow-in-the-dark message was unmistakable.

Then we raced past. One, two, three…

When I saw the tenth exit, I turned us in the direction of the ladder. "This is our getting off point."

Duo pinched me slightly, to show he cared, one way or the other, and then helped paddle to the side, aiming for the exposed rungs. The current was powerful, but together we fought our way across the few feet of swirling eddies and hung onto the first metal foothold we could grab. The cushions escaped and were swept away.

"Up!" I said with an effort as I lifted Duo with one arm to clear the water. "Go! I'm right behind you.

He didn't have time to marvel at my strength. His hands and legs had to be as numb with cold as mine, making it hard to move, but he had to. If he didn't, it would leave me to chill longer in the water. Then I remembered his face injury, the bodies in the lab room, then Sidney. The shock of his dead body brought our dire circumstances into focus, and willed my muscles to action. "Climb!"

In a climb that took forever, I had no room in my head for any thoughts beyond the immediate. Climb, don't lose your grip. Help Duo. One more.

He moved with the grace of a gymnast, never losing his balance or misjudging a distance. His wet slacks molded to his legs and ass. He had the best-shaped, alluring ass.

His fingers hit the lid when he reached the uppermost rung and the pushed with all he could give. "Won't budge!"

"All right, Duo. Move over as far as you can so I can get around you. Hold tight," I said.

I swung out to the side, up, and over him to come to a crouch on the top rung. I put my shoulder into it and together we pushed. With a groan, the escape hatch opened. The black opening yawned overhead and I reached up, caught the edge, and pulled out. Duo followed and once again, we paused wrapped around each other in a brief moment of mutual comforting. I could feel his body shaking, and I knew he could feel mine, too.

It was _cold_. Wind was blowing off the airstrip, and even though they were partially under cover, it felt like the dead of winter.

I had to shout as my voice was ripped away by the loud wind. "We have to get to safety and out of these wet clothes fast."

"No shit! I'm freezing my ass off!" Duo looked confused by the unexpected surroundings. "Where are we?"

"We are near the a-airfield where we landed." My teeth were starting to chatter, but I couldn't stop it. "We have to r-run to the plane. That means: f-follow me. S-Stay to the shadows. We w-will be visible and e-exposed for a hundred feet or s-so. I will go f-first, open the door then you c-climb up and j-jump in. Okay?" I searched Duo's eyes for understanding. "Trust me?"

"You got us this far, sure. Go for it, love."

Love. My eyes filled with warmth. I wanted to thank him, to tell him how fantastic he was, and how I felt at that moment, but then I felt a few drops of rain pelt my face. Words would have to wait. "Thank you. Love."

We took off, stumbling over trash and fuel lines, broken free from their holdings in the wind. I heard voices shouting over the wind. Friend or foe, I didn't know.

"You can't always call me that," he yelled at me.

"What? Why not?"

"Because I called you 'love' first, dimwit! Ya gotta give me my own nickname."

"I do?"

"Yes!"

"Like what? What do you suggest?"

"You're kidding! You think of something."

"Baka!"

"OH, no, we've been through that before. Not that."

"Honey?"

"Too…sweet."

"Then 'Sugar' wouldn't do either, I suppose."

"Not at all."

"Baby? Hey, you call me babe, sometimes. You cannot have two. I get 'love' and you have 'babe'."

And that was where I left it because we had reached the destination and I had another person to fight with. I had all my arguments prepared. I dashed ahead of Duo in a final spurt of energy.

"Shari, no! You have risked enough. I will fly us out, you co-pilot. You will have to bring it back after the storm has passed. Duo, go on. Climb aboard the plane."

(o)

I listened to the whine of the engine turbines preparing to taxi out to the runway and shook, chilled to the bone, as I climbed up into the plane. The rain-slick surface was treacherous, and numbness made each step uncertain.

Heero slammed shut the door behind us, then moved quickly to the cockpit, while I fell into a seat. My shivering had become non-stop. I was both physically miserable and wishing for a hot shower and a warm bed, and mentally excited and ready to meet the next challenge. Shari tossed Heero a blanket. I longed for one, but the other two were busy looking at dials and displays on an overhead readout display. I felt like the neglected passenger that I was.

Heero strapped himself into the pilot's chair. I could just make out his voice and that of Shari's in the copilot seat.

"Wind's blowing out of the NW at 30 knots and rising. Waves are cresting at 6 feet so no ships can be deployed," Shari said. "I'm computing the take-off vectors."

Heero motioned for her to leave him to do it. "Help Duo before he goes into shock. He has a clothes change in his bag."

He immediately turned back to checking his instruments, but he hadn't forgotten that I existed.

I had to admire the way the woman moved with self-assurance that spoke of experience, proficiency, and talent; she had important things to do and was executing each one of her assignments with dispatch. I sat balled up, shivering; furious at myself for how needy and useless I felt. I could also tell that the young woman was deeply devoted to Heero.

I mean, face it. He was perfect. Who wouldn't fall madly in love with him once they got to know him? And in my delusional state I decided that she was possibly in love with him as well, which didn't help me feel better.

Reluctantly, or so I painted it, Shari did as she was told and brought me a blanket.

"Oh, I can see you're injured. Here, wrap up in this while I find your bag."

I took the offered blanket with a grateful, "thanks," then started kicking off water-soaked shoes and peeling off soggy socks. It was difficult stripping out of wet clingy clothes in the limited space of the lurching vehicle. "We're moving?"

"Yes, to the best runway, but conditions are terrible." Shari dropped my open bag at my feet. "Is the other one Heero's?"

"Yeah."

I was busy with removing my shirt, when she opened Heero's bag. And, yes, I admit. I felt a twinge of jealously as the woman with the long black braid sorted through Heero's personal things until she came up with a pair of socks. I couldn't help but note how lovely Shari was. Pretty, elegant, and wholly capable-- everything I was not feeling about myself at the moment. And, stupidly, I wondered how intimate the two had been, or still were.

I could blame it on the drugs, but I hadn't taken any. It was just petty jealousy.

"Dry feet is a start," she said, then left me to my own devices.

I continued to observe Shari as she crouched low, tore off Heero's shoes, rolled off his wet socks, and replaced them with the dry ones. She leaned close to his ear and asked him something. I wondered how Heero could concentrate on what he was doing with that girl fussing around him. He answered with a shake of his head, and then gently pushed her away. Clearly, he wanted no more interference.

"I coulda told ya that," I muttered under my breath to no one.

We had taxied onto a runway, I guessed, although I couldn't see much out the little window.

"Buckle up, Duo. It's going to be a rough one."

"Gotcha!"

Before I did, though, I moved up to the seat behind his. I tightened my seatbelt, and then leaned as far forwards as I could and watched the glowing dials and dark view out the window.

"It's unadvisable," Shari was saying, but the rest of her cautionary words were drowned out by the turbines as Heero pushed the throttle up more, and propelled them down the runway.

"I coulda toldya that too."

I could not see anything out the cockpit window, which meant Heero probably couldn't either and would have to rely on the onboard computer system to guide his takeoff and ascent; at least, I hoped he had one. We were escaping on the leading edge of the storm, and no one had to tell me how dangerous the situation was.

The plane moved, rolling forward. I could feel the bumps speeding up. I think I knew when the wheels left the ground. One moment I was weightless, the next I was slammed hard into my seat as the powerful winds buffeted the small craft. I gripped the armrests and gritted my teeth. At least the cold had numbed my jaw.

"We're losing altitude!" Shari cried out.

Heero simply replied, "I know," and continued to concentrate on his vast array of dials and green-faced display screen.

Even as he pushed the speed up, the nose dipped and rose as the wind whipped them with turbulence. I was reminded of a coin-operated bull ride, and so I imagined that I was riding a bronco, instead of thinking about the plane bucking up and slamming down hard and possibly to its doom.

When I recalled the events of the past few hours, only one picture remained vividly fixed in my head, and that was of Sidney, gutted and lying in pool of entrails and blood on the otherwise antiseptically clean floor. Any blood that may have splashed onto my clothes was long washed away, but what other evidence had Heero and I left behind to incriminate us? Loose hairs or cloth fibers? Fingerprints? Breaking and entry into a restricted area was bad enough, but I had murdered a man. It was an act of defense, but how would all that work in a court of law?

"You had better have the right stuff in that bag of yours, 'Ro, or you are in big trouble, and that's just with me."

He couldn't hear me, of course.

I noticed that the plane was gradually climbing and the ride smoothing out. The muffled drumming of heavy rain on the windows and persistent thrumming of the engine lulled me into a light sleep.

_Zechs' piercing grey eyes surrounded by a cloud of silvery hair filled my field of vision. _

"_I don't want to go to jail!" I heard myself wail as terror fired up my tears and steamed up my mind, driving away any lingering logic._

"_You don't have to, Duo. I'll tell them you were with me all along, then it's just his word against ours." His voice was low and reassuring._

"_But what about Heero? They'll lock him up!"_

"_Don't worry, 'bout him. He was her employee. He could be there and that other guy attacked you and fell on his knife. Heero won't go to jail. But you could."_

"_Zechs, but I can't...I can't!" Fear gripped at my chest, constricting my lungs so that I could hardly catch my breath to speak._

"_I'll protect you, Duo, like I promised. You and I went to a movie and had a picnic today." _

_And then, to top off the surrealistic experience, Zechs leaned in and kissed my lightly on the lips, sealing the deal._

"_I don't know." I slumped into his side, enjoying the strong arm that wrapped around my shoulders and the feeling of safety and security it gave me._

_He gave me the reassuring squeeze I needed. "You only have to come with me, and I'll make a statement, Duo. Love."_

"Love? Duo, love. Wake up."

I blinked and found Heero's dark blue eyes inches away, his brown hair brushing my nose. All very real. He was gently shaking my shoulder. His face ashen against his dark hair hanging limp and in disarray. "Duo? We're about to land. I didn't want you to wake up thinking we were about to crash when the plane rattles. I just got clearance from the Nova City terminal."

I batted my eyelids. Was this a dream, too? I must have slept just long enough to be disoriented, and the return to reality was abrupt

"Where? I thought we were heading back to Sanc."

"I'll explain later. Trust me; this will throw anyone following us off our trail."

"Oh," I said warily, and then shook my head to clear it. That was a stupid thing to do, because now my jaw ached. "You keep telling me to trust you. You know I do."

"Heero is a brilliant, if not fool-hardy, pilot," Shari put in. "Our landing strip is coming into view. Nice and clear here. See the lights?"

"It'll be just a few more minutes, love," Heero whispered in my ear.

"Okay, babe."

I watched him trade positions with Shari and settle into place. "Landing…now." He brought the plane to a smooth roll, then taxied back and over toward a low, angular hanger. "We're getting off here, Duo, and then Shari will fly the plane back to Sanc and stay there for the night. In the morning, she will return to Zodiac Island. If anyone is looking for us, they'll look in Sanc first. Excuse me just a minute."

"If you say so."

Heero turned around and spoke to Shari, then opened the door and hopped out onto the tarmac. She closed up Heero's bag and climbed back for mine.

"Go on, I'll toss your bags down to you." As I stepped to the door, she added, "Take care of him, Duo Maxwell."

"Worry about yourself. Someone won't be thrilled knowing you helped him."

"No one will know. I sent out another plane before we even took off. It looks like I chased you through the storm, but lost you someplace in Sanc. As you can see, Heero thought of everything. I'm not worried at all about myself. Goodbye, Duo."

"Yeah, well, that's great. So, ah... bye, and thanks." I smiled as best I could and jumped out, landing on my poor luggage.

"Ready for our next adventure?" Heero asked me as he collected both our bags.

"Yeah, sure." I grinned and shook my head. "What a night, right? I mean, the guys that run that island, they really put the "U" in Gulag, ya know? Heh, heh…Put _that_ on a t-shirt!"

Heero laughed. "We _could _do that. You know, our own line of shirts? I was considering a few at one tme. What do you think of: 'Free Pluto—equal gravity for all planets'?"

"Yeah, heh, heh… Pretty funny, 'Ro. So, who do you know in Nova City these days?"

"We'll call Trowa or Quatre and see if they can pick us up. I want to discuss what we discovered."

"Okay. Cool. So, what did we discover?"

I followed Heero's line of sight. We stopped and watched Shari align the jet for takeoff.

"I was thinking the Fountain of Youth." He smiled, barely. "But then I think it was more complex than that. All those…bodies were male. Like an army of soldiers. All the same. All…perfect."

While I spun _that_ around in my head, Heero hunted for and located his cell phone in his bag. Mine was with his, for some reason I forgot, and he handed it to me as he put in a call.

"Trowa? Heero here. You are in Nova, correct?" Heero looked at his watch. "Sorry for the late call. All right, sorry for the _early_ call."

Oops. The sun was up. I guessed it might be around 6 AM.

Pause. "Duo and I had a change of plans. Can you pick us up at the airport? I can get you in at the Cavern, yes."

Pause. "Yes, I will pay the cover charge, too."

Pause. "Thank you. I apologize to Quatre as well. Where? We will meet you at the taxi stand in front of the main terminal. In ten minutes…"

Pause. "Sooner."

Pause. "I know. Do your best. Bye, then."

"Trowa's coming?"

"Yes. We have thirty minutes to get to the main terminal and clean up as best we can." He leaned close and rubbed a strand of my hair between his fingers. "Blood."

"Well, it's a good thing my hair's used to that then, isn't it?Some people have skeletons in their closets. I have them in my closets at work."

"We were very fortunate tonight."

"Sidney wasn't," I reminded him, then set off in the direction of the terminal building.

"Yes he was. You gave him a quick and painless end. Had I shot him, I would have let him slowly bleed to death."

"Oh." I wasn't sure if that made me feel better or not. I suppose he meant it to. "Ah, thanks." I turned on my cell phone. "I got 12 missed calls, mostly from Relena."

"Relena? She's calling you?"

"That's what I said. Hope she's an early bird." I rang her back. "Morning, sweetheart," I said for Heero's benefit. I knew he didn't like her. "You rang me?"

"Who? Duo? Is that you? It's awfully early, you know, to be calling?"

"Is it? You left me a lotta messages, so I thought it was important."

"Oh, it was…is! I've been waiting for your answer. Have you thought about lending me those greeting cards?"

Huh? Oh. "Ah, actually, no, I haven't. I've been a bit on the busy side lately."

Heero reached over and snapped shut my phone. "I liked it better off."

I smiled. "I think I like this pushy, hotshot pilot boyfriend I've got."

"You do? I'm not too pushy, am I?"

"Can't tell until I get you in bed again, heh, heh."

* * *

End Chapter 14

TBC in Chapter 15 -- October Haunting part 1


	19. October Haunting, Part 1

**Greeting Cards**

This is an on-going story arc, based on Heero's greeting cards, and updated monthly, at least.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

**Warnings:** AU, male/male pairings, language, some embalming and autopsies topics covered.

**Chapter 19 --**

**October Haunting,** **Part 1**

* * *

Naturally it was cold and neither Heero nor I were dressed for the cold and we were waiting at a windy outpost at the airport terminal taxi stand. Naturally, Zechs appeared out of the fog like some wraith, irritating 'Ro to no end. I don't know what it was about the man that bothered both Heero and Trowa so much; I thought he was pretty cool. I did wonder how he knew where to find us, but Heero seemed content to take over the questioning on his own. So, I let the two of them fuss over the evidence bag while I kept an eagle-eye look out for Quatre and Trowa.

Naturally, they were late. Heero and Zechs were snapping and sniffing like a pair of pit bulls, and frankly, I don't like dogs, but it was more fun watching them than imaging what kinda punks might be getting out of the funky-looking car that pulled up at the curb. The doors opened. I got a glimpse of slim legs and gold hair and just registered who they belonged to in spite of the mismatch of the car to the man.

Quatre barreled into me, nearly knocking the air out of my lungs. "Oh, Duo! Your face! What happened? Are you all right?"

"Yeah," I wheezed. "Jeez, Quat, gimme some air."

"I should have…known." Quatre sounded anguished.

"How?" I don't know how he thought he should be omniscient.

Then, to my surprise, Trowa came to my rescue, pulling Quatre off me and wrapping an arm possessively around his waist. "He's been distracted."

I'll bet. I hadn't seen a smile like that on my employee's face before and considering the hour of the night I could only interpret it as smacking of sex. That plus there was a dusting of green sparkles across his nose that I couldn't fathom. And was that kohl smudged around his eyes? Nice. Other than that they were dressed indifferently in jeans and sweaters. Quatre especially looked tossed together. Yeah, called them out of bed, heh, heh… "Gotcha."

Zechs spoke up. "Let's take this inside. I have an executive pass to the lounge."

Quatre cheerily agreed and floated ahead on Trowa's arm. I kept between Zechs and Heero for safety's sake, and not mine, if you get what I mean. Feeling like the gasket for a very over-worked engine valve, I smiled past the armed guards to a table in the nearly-empty, private airport lounge. I felt the pressure release instantly when Heero excused himself to go the men's room and Zechs veered off to order us coffee. That meant I'd never get to sleep.

"Wait until I get back," Zechs said. "I want to hear everything."

I still kinda wanted to know how he had known where we were, but you didn't catch me getting pushy.

"Looks painful," Trowa said about my face, I assume, though he could have been including Heero and Zechs' problematic relationship.

I touched my face and winced. "It is."

"Oh, Duo, what have you got into this time?"

That was Quatre, and what did he mean by 'this time?' It wasn't as if I was some wayward kid with a nose for trouble. It was part of my job, not that this was…

A shadow hovered over me. Heero wanted to sit in the furthermost back corner of the curved back seat, so I got out and let him in then slid in beside him. We sat close enough to share warmth. Zechs returned to our table, a waiter carrying a tray of coffees trailing behind.

"Duo, why don't you answer his first question, about the fight you apparently lost?"

I wanted to protest and get to the meat of story, but gave into the pressure from all sides. "Okay, so this dude didn't like the idea of Heero taking off with me instead of hanging out with his old ex, and decided to ruin my chances of seducing dear Heero with a hard punch to my jaw."

Too many generalities. Quatre demanded to know everyone's name, age, and serial number. Trowa was curious if I had succeeded, which got him a half-smile and a shrug for an answer. And Zechs cleared his throat to open up some white space to speak his mind.

"I spoke to Detective Chang, who in a few more hours will be known as Agent Chang of the Preventers." He glared at Heero for a second. "I do not appreciate you trying to keep an incident like that from my security people. There has already been one attack on a member of my household, as you well know."

"Your security at the palace can't be very good if Duo was attacked on the premises and none of them even noticed, not even when the police arrived," Heero said.

Oh boy.

He and Zechs exchanged actual "glancing blows", real dagger glares that could skin most men alive. Zechs survived to retort, "I _learned_ of what happened. Chang said you knew the man who attacked Duo to be employed by Keel, and so I asked for a photo of the arrested man emailed to my office. He was not the man who attacked Relena. _He_ failed to show at court."

"Jumped bail? That's a shock," I snorted. "Don't worry 'bout him, though."

"No?" Zechs, who by day I knew as a rather low-key, friendly fellow, was rather prickly at night.

"He's dead," Heero intoned with all the emotion of one of my corpses. Heero folded his arms over his chest and leaned back. And then proceeded to say not one thing more. Left me to do all the illuminating.

"You sound certain of that." Zechs now looked positively intimidating.

"Yeah, I was there," I assured him. "He's dead. For sure."

"Duo, did you go to the island after getting beat up?" Quatre asked. This tiny frown line appeared between his brows. He was about to get bossy with me.

"One punch, that's all-- _not_ beat up." That correction was a matter of pride. "Yeah, we flew there. Didn't stop us from going to see the island, at all. As it turned out, we made a pretty awful discovery," I said with a pat to the evidence bag Heero was carrying, "and escaped in the eye of a storm."

"Yeah," Heero said in a great imitation of me complete with a yawn, stretching his jaws wide, "The plane glided through the sky exactly how a bowling ball doesn't."

I was really rubbing off on him, heh, heh. Which got me to thing about doing _more_ than just rubbing off on Heero.

"Here's what you want." He slid the bag along the bench seat to within Zech's long reach. "We're going."

"It's a long walk back to Sanc," Trowa reminded him.

Heero shrugged and curled back into his corner seat. I could tell he wished he'd kept his mouth shut.

"Heero is a pilot; did you know that?" It was a shot in the dark, something to stimulate their minds, perk up my buddies huddled around glossy, little airport table. Trowa, at least, was sharing the same page.

"I'm lucky I know where I'm _from_. Oh, guess I don't even know that." Trowa flashed me a half smile.

Man, he must have had some good sex.

"A pilot, really? You are?"

Heero dipped his chin once in answer to Quatre.

"What did you find out, then?" Zechs asked.

"He's a versatile, multi-talented, complex guy," I said in a sigh. "But aside from that, what we learned was this: Lady Une of the Sanc hospital fame has some connection with the resort. By the way, nice place, but creepy as hell with wolves and devoid of people for the most part. And considering how close it is, via the subway route, to the Asylum medical unit, I'd call the place Club Med, as in Club Medical, get it?"

"Yes," Zechs' look was could have wilted the most resolute flower.

But not Heero. My 'Ro is not a flower, or he's a flower made out of some material that's magically harder than any known metal, say… Gundanium. He straightened up a bit and said, "Someone in charge there has turned the medical facility into a personal laboratory using the inmates of the penitentiary and of the mental asylum as test subjects. You'll see when you look at the documents that there are VL tags all over. Someone there has finger-hooks into Voyate laboratories."

Zechs cursed under his breath, and lowered his coffee mug to the table. His knuckles were white as he continued to hold the handle in a death grip. Quatre twisted around in his seat. "You say have proof of that?"

"Not yet, but I will. What I have are these." Heero took back his shoulder carrier and from inside withdrew a sealed plastic bag holding a small labeled bottle. He handed it to Quatre. "Take a look at the watermark on the label and tell me what you see."

"_**VL**_," Quatre turned the bag around, inspecting the bottle from all sides. "Voyate Laboratories?"

Trowa took it out of his hands, saying, "But not just that."

Zechs moved over to get a better look. "What else?"

"Whoever typed up this label did so on a typewriter."

"O-kay, Tro..." I let out a sigh. Exhaustion was wearing away my thin veneer of sophistication. "I'll ask: Who the fuck cares? So what? It was typed on a typewriter. Why do you tell us this?"

"Well, if you're going to be that way..." Trowa carelessly flung the bag back onto the table.

"I can't help the way I am. Hey, it has been a long day, and I am very sorry. Now, enlighten me on the typing thing."

Quat tapped on the table until I met his eyes. "I _am_ sorry," I repeated, with meaning this time around. Jeez, I had to make nice to Trowa _and_ Quatre now. You didn't see me and 'Ro acting all protective after having sex. Okay, _me._

"Okay," my little blond ex said generously. "What is it, Trowa?"

"Most Voyate Pharmaceutical labels are generated by computer and printed by laser copiers. In the test laboratories, they are typed individually on impact typewriters one-at-a-time, because for the most part they're one-time-only labels. With me so far?"

"Yeah and...?"

"This paper label has these little specks, which, and I'll bet you my next paycheck about this, under a microscope will turn into fibers in the paper with embedded markers-- a different fiber for each lab. That way a product is can be traced multiple ways back to the lab where it originated."

"Gods, Trowa, have I told you I love ya, man?" I said in an affected tone. "Now, you gonna tell us how you came by that information?"

"He worked at a hospital, Duo. I'm sure he dealt with VL product there, right, Trowa?"

Sure, bat those baby-blues at him…

"Yeah, plus… I remembered that from being there. Maybe I was sent there from the hospital, maybe I worked for them, I dunno."

"Trowa, let me get this straight," Zechs said. "If we were to remove this label and check out the marks under a microscope, we could determine where the bottle originated from– which particular lab. Is that correct?"

"Yeah," Trowa began. The rest of his reply was clipped off by Quatre.

"Duo, Heero, let's say we do that. You mentioned 'test subjects'. What else did you find?"

"Rows and rows of people floating in green slime," I said, which was what I'd found.

"You have _got_ to be kidding!" Trowa choked out.

"They are creating a fountain of youth. Eternal life with your beauty intact."

Heero sounded a little strange. I think he was suffering from lack of sleep and stress. Still, I thought I could back him up a little. "If I am right, Lady Une is a lot older than she looks."

Zechs swiveled his head, swinging that fine head of luxurious white-blonde hair, and looked at me. "What? What in hell are you two talking about?"

"Creating ageless minions." Heero was still a little dreamy there, until he looked my way. "I am sure they had some failures we should examine."

"We're gonna have to dig up some bodies, aren't we?" I asked.

"Dig up bodies!" Quatre shrieked.

Zechs slapped both hands over his mouth. They sat both breathing heavily a few seconds until Quatre settled down.

"That's adequate." Trowa pealed Zechs hands away.

"Are you under control?" Zechs asked, unconvinced.

Quatre blinked then glared, I mean glared like no angel I'd ever seen, at me. with his voice under tight control, he said. "What the Hell, I repeat, what in living Hell-?"

"An oxymoron…" Trowa muttered.

"A.K.A. Zodiak Island," I whispered back. Tro' and I were cool. "That place is fucking, living hell."

Now, I didn't know it was really necessary that WE do the digging up of bodies or what precisely we'd be looking for, but Heero seemed satisfied with my idea. He had nodded to me during Quat's brief mental collapse. I had no clue what we were getting into-- no, that wasn't exactly right. I had no measurement for the depth of shit we were proposing to walk, crawl, and/or dive into, but 'Ro did, I guessed, so it would be okay.

"That's where we will perform the exhumation." Heero intoned this like a death knell.

"Why? Whose? What are we looking for?" Quatre continued to blather, but since no one was answering, he stopped. "Duo?"

I sighed. Since I didn't actually know, I had no answer, so I talked a good roundabout. "There's tons of data for Zechs to plow through there. Why don't we all just go back to wherever you guys are camped out and get some sleep and talk about all this later?" It was far into the wee hours of Friday morning already.

And everyone agreed with me. It was cool like a bowling ball wasn't, which made me think about what Heero had said. He'd made a joke about his piloting the plane through the violent storm. Heh, heh…

"What's the matter, Duo?" Trowa asked as he parked the car outside some luxury hotel, which Quatre assured us would accommodate the three of us with no problem because he owned the place, heh, heh. And that might have been the first time Trowa learned that little tidbit, because he stumbled getting out of the car. He was very sure-footed, normally. Eh, we were all getting a little punchy.

"Well, I'm a bit tired. I haven't really come to grips with the death of my pet fish, and when things seem to be going well, I know that I have obviously overlooked something."

"What pet fish?" Trowa asked.

"Yeah, ah… there was this guy…" _Yeah, Tro. My goldfish Sidney died and Heero made me flush it down the sewers--_ I could not get into that story or we'd be standing outside, instead of sleeping inside, all night. That or someone might think I should be arrested for murder, heh, heh… Ugh… I pushed the thought of my having just murdered a man to my fiery little brain's backburner. I'd stew on it and eat shit later. "Hey, I have no more material, all right? I plan to be spontaneous tomorrow."

"You are all being incoherent," Zechs declared as he pushed his way to the desk to acquire a key, getting in the last word, well almost.

"Speak for yourself!" Heero growled.

"I thought I had."

And then I dragged Heero away from the towering blond, promising him anything he wanted if he would get us a room. Well, it got us moving fast. We had a room key in no time-- no problem, just as Quatre had promised.

(o)

The next day I thought we were going to sleep in late and mess around until afternoon, but I was up after only four hours of sleep. I kept track. It may have been that I was unused to sleeping with another person in my bed. I'd had sex, but not slept with… with Ty.

I liked holding Duo in just his underwear. I was the only person who could do this now that he was mine, so it felt singularly special. It was all I ever wanted. Just holding Duo while he slept, knowing he was safe and whole.

Still, it was much better without the fabric in the way.

I was completely nude and as he stirred, I asked him if he wouldn't mind my removing his shorts. "These, off, now."

He mumbled "'S'okay" so I tugged the waistband of his underwear down, down, ooh, yeah, pulling them off his legs.

Now there was nothing but heat and smooth hardness. I caught his mouth in an urgent kiss and moaned when his hand wound around my erection, stroking with a steady, deliberate pace. It was only when I was trying to think of a way to make him go faster that my brain was capable of remembering I had hands too. They were shaking just a little, but I still managed to make my first stroke firm and deliberate. Duo's hand faltered, and his head tilted back enough that I could pepper kisses over the bared skin as I set my own rhythm, faster and more insistent than his had been.

When the other hand started moving again, it was at my pace, strokes just as deliberate, but now aimed at the end result instead of the teasing preliminaries. And I was not about to complain. I lost track of himself in the motions, in the feeling of Duo's skin against my chest, under my palm, sliding over his erection. I lost myself in the taste, in the sounds of our ragged breathing. It was the sight of all that fierce want, desire, and possessiveness that shone within Duo's eyes that finally pushed me over, though.

I clung to him, shuddering, trying to remember that I was supposed to make my hand move, but not quite certain I could still feel it in the bright white light of my paradise of pleasure. At least, not until Duo's hand landed over it, guiding the pace, controlling the pressure, until I too came. I just lay panting as I recovered.

After a few moments of gentle manhandling, I found myself sitting between Duo's legs, back resting against his chest, both of us looking over the luxuriously appointed room. I'm sure he hadn't noticed it before or he would have commented. He slipped his arms around my waist, and we relaxed as we sat and watched the slight movement of the curtains blowing in the heat from the furnace outlet.

"If we split now we can avoid the others," he proposed.

_But would we still spend another night together,_ I wondered? "Can we…?"

"Oh, yeah," he grinned, "Lots more."

"All right." We were sharing the same wavelength. In tune.

After that we dressed hurriedly. We wanted to get out without disturbing the others. We wanted a full day to ourselves. Duo jotted a short note explaining our actions, while I called the concierge to arrange for a rental car. Duo, I know, would never have thought of that. It would please him to learn it could be done. He, in fact, listened in attentively as I completed my instructions and hung up the phone. Then waited, his head cocked to the side and arms crossing his chest.

"We needed a car," I said simply. I hardly needed to say more. Complicated explanations were not necessary for Duo to understand me.

"So you just called the hotel desk? They got those here, too?"

Sometimes _some_ explanation was required, though. I tended to think everyone had the same life experiences as I. Duo would need to be filled on this one.

"Not the cars, but the means to have one delivered for us. We will need to complete the paperwork downstairs and show a drivers' license for the rental company to hand over the keys."

"Oh. Cool."

He placed his note under Quatre and Trowa's door on our way out. I don't believe he was disappointed that the car turned out to be ordinary this time. He knew the value of a dollar, his and mine.

He liked driving, so I let him take the first turn. I would get my chance later, he said. So, we left Atlas City and the mountains and took a drive through the country to enjoy the first fall colors.

"Shall we buy a few apples?" I asked, spotting a farm stand up ahead.

The car slowed. "And fresh-roasted peanuts to snack on?" Duo added hopefully.

"Sure, that ought to hold us until we find a cozy place to stop for dinner."

And peanuts and corn nuts were among the first of his purchases. I was mulling over which honey to buy, when he tapped me on the shoulder and lured me out into the orchard with a wiggling fingertip and a tempting smile.

"I don't think they want us violating their apple orchard."

"How about each other?" His smile suggested everything I was thinking.

There was no one around our private bower so I drew him into a tight embrace. "I'm spoiled. I want cushions, not leaf mulch."

"That's okay 'cause as much as I'd love some lovin', I really need one of those say-what's-on-my-mind moments."

Oh. I remembered we'd done this before in a different apple grove. I had been so nervous back then, and now? I knew we had put off saying important things, and that I in particular owed him some explanations. He had been so patient. "And what we say won't leave here? All right."

"First, I've been thinking about the attacks on me. I've had enemies before, but none that wanted me dead. I want to know why you stuck it out with a killer like Ty."

I did, too. I could hardly meet his dark eyes. The blue was so deep I thought I could fall in and just keep going. "Some of my explanation is easy. In the beginning, Odin Lowe was training me to follow in his foot steps, as an assassin."

"Jesus, 'Ro! Man… I hope that wasn't the easy part!"

"Easy to _say_. He started me out when I was just a kid, eight maybe? And I was good at it. But then a teacher discovered my artistic bent and put me in art classes and later art shows."

"And Ty? Where did he fit in?"

"Ty was another adopted kid, older than me and further along in his training. Eventually he decided my artistic talents and sensitivities meant I was gay and proceeded to introduce me to sex."

"Aw, 'Ro… And your step-father let him? He never protected you?"

I studied my hands, which had climbed to his shoulders, one at a time, skipping the concerned face in between. "Odin was killed. I was powerless. I was forced."

Duo's fingers dug into my waist. What I caught of his expression was nearly frantic with concern. "S-so you may not be gay? Heero! Look me in the eye and tell me, honestly, how you feel."

_No!_ I did not want to bring into question what Duo and I had. "What I feel is _unbelievable _it is so intense and in the past it would have been unimaginable that it could happen to me-- that **you **could happen to me. I love you so completely and I know it would have been impossible a couple years ago." His relief was so evident as he relaxed into me, that I continued saying the things I had not thought I would be able to, and, remarkably, opening my heart to him was not the painful process I had anticipated. "Before I saw you walk into the coffee shop, I was numb."

His fingers patted and kneaded my hips offering me the healing power of his touch. "I know that feeling."

_That's right, he had lost his lover. Would he ever tell me about that?_ "Ty's control over me was numbing. I had no will of my own. I just submitted to him, to sex, just to get it over with as fast as possible."

"How--?" but even Duo failed to find words to help. He just leaned into me, warming me. I smoothed his hair over his ears needing to touch and soothe him back.

"My feelings were not a consideration, ever. I learned to cut myself off from what was going on, until I could stand it no longer."

"That's when you moved to Sanc?"

"Eventually, but first I returned to Zodiac Island off and on as a teenager, saving to get my own place, producing work, lining up jobs, and avoiding Ty as much as possible. As soon as I was making a good living from my art, enough to have an apartment downtown, I made my escape. I covered my tracks, changed phones, hid my identity. And then I found the coffee shop with the perfect lighting." I smiled as he smiled. "And I lost my heart one morning when you walked in the door. I made it a point to arrive a little earlier than you from there on out."

"Heh, heh… yeah and by saying charming things like that you think I might let an opportunity pass to get you to spill? I should make you explain the Zodiac Island visit we just had."

"Zechs asked me to gather the information. He paid for the room and transportation in exchange."

"But why? What's his connection?"

"He told me that if what I brought back was what he was looking for, he would explain it all."

"And that was okay with you? You guys don't seem very chummy. You really trusted him that much?"

"He vowed to tell me everything on his military service honor. That I trust.'

"Oh, well… I guess I can just dismiss everything a little longer." His somber tone told me he could not forget everything try as he like.

"It was self-defense. Not murder."

"You knew what I was thinking about."

"I know you value life and would not take away one without feeling something. I was happy you slept last night."

"Yeah, well… I'll get the nasty nightmares yet."

"Not on my shift," I assured him.

His smile widened, becoming a little sly. "Funny 'bout those bad dreams, ya know? They can sneak up any night I'm alone."

All right, I jumped right into that one and took him up on the offer. "Then I will have to make sure you never sleep alone."

"Thatta promise?" He was daring me, I could tell. How serious we both were, I was less certain.

"Is that what you want?" I countered. I trusted him, but was it to soon to be suggesting moving in together?

His eyes started at my feet and moved upwards, ending at my eyes, scanned to the last pixel. "I want lots of things, mostly selfishly. When I can tell you about myself, then I'm ready. Does that make sense to you?"

It did. "We both have rather mysterious pasts. We shouldn't rush into anything, especially with damaged souls."

"Damaged souls? Yeah, that's us, I guess. Um, I need a moment to think…alone, 'kay?"

"All right."

I found a stump to rest on and watched while Duo nosed around the outskirts of the orchard. I admired his lithe body undulating beneath his clothes, especially since I could picture him naked. My infatuation was getting out of control. Duo looked so good walking under the golden maples, that it made my heart flutter to watch him.

"Hey, 'Ro?"

And as the sun rose, casting long, purple shadows across the pumpkin patch, his dusky pants, shirt, and hair melded into the landscape, mysteriously disappearing. Frogs piped their mating calls and geese honked beyond the trees where a river flowed. The water called to me as if in my past I had been a part of its life, just as Duo called out to me. My breath caught and I shivered. In my heart I wanted to believe we were meant for each other.

I wanted to be with him all the time and hear his voice and feel his touch, and that could pose a future a problem. _What if Ty were to get serious in his attacks on him and I were to lose Duo? _

"I'm over here."

He reappeared carrying a handful of acorns. He was polishing them between his fingers as he approached. The sun broke through a cleft in the mountain range and washed him in a thin veil of misty light. As he looked up, his amethyst-colored eyes caught mine, and he smiled. The warmth welling up inside nearly made me burst with joy. I really needed his goodness. That's when a strong arm drew me into a warm hug.

"Ummm, are you cold, or was that a shiver of delight? No, you must be chilled with just that t-shirt. Funny, isn't it? Wasn't it only a week ago that we were sweltering and now the mornings are cold? Oh my," he gasped slightly, "are you trying to squeeze all the air out of me?"

"Just shut up," I murmured into his chest, "and hold me."

I couldn't help but tremble, experiencing all over again the rush of excitement I felt at his touch. He needed me too, I was certain, and that made my neediness all more equal and acceptable.

He pulled back, but kept contact through our clasped hands. "What'sup?"

I shook my head. I tugged gently and we made our way toward the car.

"Pretty awesome place, huh? Love this time of year. We'll get some apples and plums. Those oval ones are sweet. Oh, here, take these." He poured the acorns into my jacket pocket. "I know you're always looking for things to draw."

_How could I sort my jumble of thoughts into words?_ There was one way that I knew of. "I love you."

His eyes grew impossibly large and his breath hitched. "Oh!"

"I wish you had your house out here. I'd visit you everyday."

He grabbed my arm and stared hard at me. "I'm still working on the first part." I knew he meant the "I love you" part.

We retained eye contact. I heard a dog bark, car pull off the road, drive over the gravel to the farm stand, but my eyes were lost in Duo's.

"I love you, too. It's like nothing I thought I'd ever have, this connection, ya know?"

"Yes. I feel it too." And then I could not help myself. I kissed him. I should have waited.

"Fuckin' queers."

Both Duo and I jumped apart like a spark had ignited between us, and not the nice sexual one. A man with a hunting dog in the back of his pickup truck stood glaring at us. The dog whined and shuffled to get out, probably to take in a "bite" of the action.

"Getcher faggot eyes offa me."

Duo's hackles rose. I wanted to stop him, but his mouth was already open.

"Then keep _yours _offa us. Ya know—"

I groaned because this was where things could go very bad—right after he said the "ya know" part.

"--the number one thing that heterosexuals need to know about gay people is... Relax, we don't want you!"

The man froze and for a second I calculated the time it would take for me to run to the car for my gun and back and decided Duo and I could take out both him and his dog without it. I would have to position myself in front of Duo and a handful of those acorns would harden my fist for a maximum physically powerful punch.

All this was unnecessary because the man had already turned away to release his dog for a walk, muttering "Nothin' wrong with me."

"C'mon," Duo said, tapping my shoulder. "I want that fruit."

When it was time to leave, we drove the long, leisurely route back to town, and tossed our apple cores out the window.

We stopped for dinner at a roadside diner, where we both ordered burgers and milkshakes, mine vanilla and his strawberry. I had onion rings and Duo had French fries. I realized then that I had not once glanced at my watch that day. My need to manage every minute of my day diminished in Duo's presence. Every minute was an adventure and a pleasure just because he was a part of my life. I wanted the day to never end.

"Stay with me," he said.

I knew we would not end up at his place, but it was nice for him to start the bargaining. "Do you think we should find a Motel?"

We didn't want to spend money on a motel room but we definitely wanted to have another night sharing a bed together.

"That means the palace tonight, you realize." What other choice was left?

"Okay, we'll stay at your place, if you can sneak me in without shocking the royal residents." Duo had to relent because his place was not suitably romantic, as he put it.

"I should be able to do that."

And I should have, had Relena not scheduled a press conference to discuss one of her charities for that very night.

We missed the extra cars parking up the front approach and the side parking lot, because we'd turned in the rental and taken a cab to the palace. The cab left us at the back gate and we entered through the servant's entrance, pass the guard, and right into Miss Charlene Cavanaugh of the local television network.

"I am so lost here. Can you help me find my way back from the bathroom?" She took a better look at Duo, who had moments earlier wrenched his braid out of my hands. I don't think I had a problem, but he thought I might. I liked to fondle his braid. A subconscious thing.

"Oh! I know you." She meant Duo. She did not know me. "You are the Maxwell of Maxwell Funeral house. I didn't see you at the festivities earlier."

"Musta missed the cocktails," he said coolly. But it charmed her and she laughed.

"I'm _Miss_ (I couldn't miss the flirtatious emphasis) Charlene Cavanaugh of the WSNC television network. And this is--?" Now she was curious about me.

"Heero," I supplied.

"Heero Yuy? The artist! Oh, my. Relena was raving about you and the show she's creating of your work."

I was about to object when Zechs rounded the corner. "What are you doing here?"

I could have reminded him that I lived here, but Charlene played go-between reporter. "How sly. And you said he wouldn't be attending." She turned to me and added for good measure, "Well, she just adores you."

"Yeah," Duo said, stepping another foot further away from me. Under my breath I muttered, "She grew on him like she was a colony of E. Coli and he was room-temperature prime beef."

I musta said that louder than I thought, because Zechs nearly lost his balance he laughed so hard, causing a man carrying an on-the-scene-with-Charlene video cam to stumble. Hopefully cameraman-guy hadn't caught what I'd said.

"I could interview the both of you, too," she offered. The cameraman closed in on the two of us, an attractive opening clip.

"Well, that depends," Duo said in all mock seriousness. "Do you know how many doctors does it take to screw in a light bulb?"

"Ah..." She had no idea where this conversation was leading.

"Three." He smiled that supremely pleased smile of his. "One to find a bulb specialist, one to find a bulb installation specialist, and one to bill it all to Medicare."

Before she could laugh politely he went on, "Of course..." Duo took a couple steps toward the backstairs, and paused. The corner of his mouth turned up, he looked slyly over his shoulder, gauged his timing, and then finished his thought. "It depends on whether it has health insurance."

Charlene and her crew laughed nervously. It was late; they were clustered inside a narrow hallway with a young mortician telling weird jokes. Duo's unorthodox braid and sense of humor took the stock-beautiful people by surprise.

But then so did Zechs.

"None," Zechs said. "Doctors only sign the death certificate and phone the mortuary." His eyes glittered; he was pleased with his joke.

"Well, they might do _something_." Duo pretended to look offended. "They could tell it to take two aspirin and come 'round to the surgery later. Or... they could diagnose depression and prescribe benzo diazapines."

My turn. "But the better question is: How many_ undertakers _does it take to change a light bulb?"

"That's easy," Duo said with a chuckle. "None. They'd just paint them black and go on using them."

Again, the cameraman laughed partly at the jokes but mostly at the comical delivery. Miss Charlene was so stunned I walked right past her, following Duo to the staircase without another word. My progress was impeded and my nerves rattled by the sound of Relena's siren call.

"Heero! You're here!" Relena entered the crowded hallway. "I wondered what all the commotion was about. Why don't you come into the parlor? I have so many people for you to meet. Oh. Duo." That last part sounded sodden with disappointment.

I noticed she carried a pad of sticky notes and pens and an idea painted in my mind. "May I?" I reached for the notes and pen.

She was too surprised to say no and watched as I scribbled "demon be gone!" in Japanese. I ripped off the talisman and stuck it to her forehead. I wondered why I had not tried this trick on her before. _Simple, but would it work?_ In a fit of caprice, I made another flourish to anoint Zechs with a twin o-fuda.

Something worked. Her face lit as if enlightened by angels. "What an absolutely adorable idea for your modern art exhibition. Everyone gets a yellow sticky to walk around with—a Yuy original to take home!"

And if that moment had not been surreal enough, the next surpassed my experiences with the power of o-fuda. Her glow encompassed her brother, his gray-blue eyes preternaturally bright. I thought he might ignite, but instead he smiled and said to me, "Carl Jung once said, and I quote, 'Enlightenment is not imagining figures of light but making the darkness conscious.'"

Duo was always at cross purposes with the occult, I think. He just cut through the magic. "Yeah, well, as one of my fav fantasy writers, Terry Pratchett, once wrote,

'Light thinks it travels faster than anything but it is wrong. No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it.' And you oughtta know I'm like the God of Death. I'm not afraid of the dark."

He topped that off with a wink to Charlene and ascended the stairs, leaving me to follow with as brave a front as he had.

* * *

End Chapter 19

TBC in Chapter 20 -- October Haunting part 2


	20. October Haunting, Part 2

**Greeting Cards**

This is an on-going story arc, based on Heero's greeting cards, and updated monthly, at least.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

**Warnings:** AU, male/male pairings, language, some embalming and autopsies topics covered. Thank you Waterlily for the edits, and to both you and Snowdragon for getting me through the meltdown of my computer. I miss my computer, everyone, and will do what I can to update with borrowed ones.

**Chapter 20 --**

**October Haunting,** **Part 2**

* * *

Play practice was more of a joke than anything else. Oh, Zechs was there swanking about like he owned the place, and maybe he did. I didn't see his sister Relena or her friend Dorothy, who was somehow responsible for the thing. Trowa, Quatre, Heero, and I were closeted off with a bunch of other suckers to have our roles worked out.

And what was the stupid play about? We were to learn as we went along. Oh, joy.

"Ugh," Heero groaned. "Dancing and singing? I can't do either."

"I am so not liking this," Trowa grumbled.

I was not overjoyed at spending a day off at a play practice myself, but I wasn't about to let the only performer amongst us grouse. "Fuck you. You were a clown in a circus act. You have nothing to complain about," I told him.

"I wasn't complaining," he drawled back. "When I start complaining you'll know it. I was just expressing my feelings." His smirk softened as Quatre snuggled closer to his side.

"And that's so much healthier than holding everything in." Quatre flashed him a spunky little smile and Heero looked as if he were about to toss his cookies, chew the cheese, worship the porcelain goddess, and flash the hash-- if you get my drift.

I was feeling about the same. I mean, you wouldn't catch me an' 'Ro making googly-eyes. Quatre hadn't acted like that when he was with me, had he? I don't think so, but he was sickeningly sweet around my bud Tro'. I guess I was getting used to the fact that Quat had sloughed me off for Tro' pretty readily. I had the best boyfriend on the planet, and it was time to show him what that meant."Don't worry, 'Ro, I'll handle the tough stuff. You just hang back in the shadows."

"I can do that?"

"Sure!" I knew he'd get into the fun in no time. He might not think he could sing and dance, but there was a showman deep down inside him raring to break out, I just _knew_. He was an artist, after all!

"Who's the twink in tights?" Trowa asked.

Our 'coach' in tights minced over to take us in hand. Heero's eyes raked over the oncoming man with an appreciative glance, and then he folded up against the wall and hid in the shade of his bangs. I could still see the glimmer of his deep blue eyes, though. He really needed to grow out the long fall in front, like Trowa sported, to be truly effective. And that gave me this funny image of him and Trowa comparing the length of their hair. _No, Heero...you need another two inches to hide your eyes totally... _I moved so that he wouldn't have to bother keeping the man in tights in sight.

"Hi everyone. I'm Gregory. _The_ choreographer."

No one applauded. _Were we supposed to?_

He huffed and continued in an annoying, affected manner. Behind me, Heero realigned his line of sight. I detested the flamboyant gay types.

"I am going to show you how to lift those heels and shake those asses—"

"I'll bet you will." That was Trowa murmuring over Heero's shoulder.

"Hn." And that was Heero chuckling once.

"Dancing keeps him toned, don't you think?" Quatre whispered loud enough for me to hear him from Trowa's side.

Great. I guess I was the only one not attracted to our coach.

"We haven't much time to get you…people in ship-shape, so let's begin with some warm-up exercises."

"I'm pretty warm already. How 'bout it, Yuy? You ready to feel the burn?"

If Trowa said one more thing like that I was gonna smack him good. He was just doing it to rile me, I know. My boyfriend thought Trowa was funny and laughed, though, then he pressed into me from behind. It was brief, but telling; he wasn't aroused. Heh, heh… gotta love my 'Ro.

The hour passed quickly into the next. Gregory must also have been cajoled into being the losers' vocal coach, because next he pulverized our collective will-not-sing willpower into a gray powder that he could shit on and mold into a gala production number. Sorry, but my mood was pretty glum.

"Be the flower! Open! Let me hear you blossom!"

Quatre squawked when Gregory pinched his butt and Trowa roared. I'd never heard my quiet worker make so loud a noise before.

Gregory nearly burst with excitement. He was "thrilled" and on my employee in a heartbeat. "You are fantastic! I have a _special_ part I can just build it around you. Such a natural you are."

It was fun watching Tro' _fail _at getting out of that _special _opportunity. Circus boy. Heh, heh…yeah. I was cheering up now.

When the few lines we were to sing were ground into our brains and our souls cast to fit the tunes, Gregory finally let us go with a hopeless-sounding twitter directed at someone posing as the man in charge. Loved show biz. Loved the process.

Heero stared at the door. I had said we could drop the play commitment if he didn't think he could go through with it, but I think he wanted to rise to the occasion. He set his jaw with determination.

"Here comes Zechs," he ground between clenched teeth.

Funny how "Zechs" sounds like "sex" at the most unlikely times. Like then. "Er, okay, but can we find a less conspicuous place to, ah, go?"

He gave me the strangest look, which cued me into my misunderstanding-- that, and the blond prince was upon us. Too bad _that_. There was something about his demeanor, his upright carriage, flowing hair, pale skin, not to mention the play – the subject of which included some pretty unsavory types—that made me say to Heero, "Tell me I'm stupid, but he reminds me of –"

Heero's face lit up. "A vampire," he said low enough so that Zechs couldn't have overheard him.

I wasn't going to say "vampire" but Heero was so absolutely certain, and, well, now that he mentioned it… "Yeah, a vampire with some David Bowie in Labyrinth thrown in."

I said the right thing. Heero was nearly hopping with excitement. "Yes, yes, Relena, too."

Okay… there was a girl in Labyrinth...

"O-fuda work against vampires. You are safe at work."

"You did that…for me?" Gosh, golly, gee, aw shucks. "Thanks. Don't you think he'd favor the sweetness of circus-boy over hard-luck artist, though? I mean, when you think about it , better yet, well-bred Winner in a crystal decanter?"

He looked unconvinced, so I continued to embellish my theme. "Ah, yes, the Winner Chardonnay. 180 was an excellent year; a cheeky little wine with a light aroma of desert fruits and light on the oak aging. Top quality in a few years. Trowa would be ... What? A more assertive Zinfandel?"

"You are teasing me."

Well duh. "We're talkin' Bram Stoker, Anne Rice, Buffy, and Hollywood here, 'Ro."

"I was serious," he said, in all seriousness, too. "The coffins and long black capes are gone. The destructive haunting is over. The dead used to be a world away, far beyond our sphere of mortal existence. If they walked the Earth at all, they inhabited the night."

"So I should forget about them menacing the living?"

"No! It is just that these days, the dead are just like us."

"Well I gotta tell you in my line of work, the dead are getting a stunning amount of face time, but I don't know about the world at large."

"Oh, yes, I think they are domesticating the notion of death. Converting our nightmares into a nice, gated suburb we can recognize."

"Um, why's that?"

"If the supernatural seems mundane, we let them get the upper hand. They take over."

"So, we gotta be on the lookout for these bloodsuckers, huh?"

"Vigilance is a necessity. If we dispose of them, and we can, we can only assume they're trapped forever in some kind of nothingness. No one, especially them, wants to leave and be gone forever. In the end, that may be the scariest death of all."

Now after what I'd seen in floating in those tubs on Zodiac Island Heero's weird talk was getting to me. "You really are serious about this."

He nodded, eyes bright, but I didn't have time to comment further because Zechs had joined us and had something on his mind and in his hands.

"It appears your practice is over. We need to meet privately. Next week, at the palace. I'll let you know exactly when."

If I thought _that _all sounded mighty spooky, he started pressing small paper bags into each of our hands. "Take these, quickly."

Trowa peeked inside his, so I did too.

"Vial?" Trowa asked, and he wasn't pleased about it either. "What's with this shit?"

I looked. There were a few hygienic-looking objects, plastic-wrapped swab, but nothing I'd pin as "vile".

"I require hair and… samples… for DNA tests, from all you. I am including myself in the testing, before you ask. Look inside. You'll find that there are instructions typed out."

Oh, a _vial._ I got it. Zechs was collecting semen for DNA tests. _Why?_ That was today's question. Cheek swab samples contain the same DNA as blood and sperm samples and will therefore produce the same test results. "Um, Zechs. I do DNA collection all the time. Why the, um, personal sample here? It's not at all necessary."

He leaned in and used a hush-hush tone. "Because sperm cell membranes have cross-linking chemical bonds called disulfides."

There were a heapa blank looks aimed his way, except from our chem. major, Trowa, naturally.

"And according to the information in one of the files Yuy gave me, data was attached to those membranes chemically by to certain… subjects. It is important we all be tested."

"You think we've been test subjects for Voyate? Or on _Zodiac_? That's crazy talk, isn't it 'Ro?"

'Ro just scowled and shrugged. Okay, I'd try Zechs again. "But—" that was me trying to learn something from the man. Silly me.

"I know it seems like a stretch of imagination..." Zechs began.

"Fuck that. Why should we trust you?" Trowa put in. "Why should we go along with any of this?"

"Because there is a connection between you and what Heero and Duo discovered in the Zodiac labs."

"How can that be?" Quatre asked.

"The Winner Corporation owns Voyate and you were...born via their genetic labs, for a start. Yuy, you lived on Zodiac Island which has ties with Voyate. Trowa, I am next to certain the attack on you was related to your roots to that island and Voyate. I have contacted a man in L3 who was present when you were brought to the circus, and, yes, I'll give you that name and number so you can follow up on that lead."

Zechs paused to catch his breath and look at me. "No, I can't tie you into this for certain yet, but there was a Father Maxwell, the asylum chapel preist who died in a fire under unusual circumstances. There was a Chang Clan connection as well, and while that may be too far fetched to be considered relevant, I'll continue to investigate agent Chang's past as well." Zechs checked his watch. "I have a pressing apppointment or I'd be glad to sstand here all day and explain."

"I'll bet."

He gave us one last desperate plea. "It is imperative that we get the results ASAP."

"Sorry to burst your bubble, but DNA test results take six to eight weeks." I was still not excited.

"Maxwell, please. I can rush the testing, but I have to get it started today, in an hour would be optimal."

"Ya mean, you want us to do… this, er, _that_, now? _Here?_" I asked since no one else was doing the asking.

"Yes, that is what I mean."

"Men's room is this way," Heero said and led the way. I couldn't believe that he'd capitulated so fast. Eh... but he did have a thing about authority figures I didn't understand completely. He let Odin lowe and that Ty thug control him for a long time. Still, Zechs had a point and if this could help illuminate what was going on.

"Why isn't Pre-preventers doing this?" I asked with a skip to keep up with Zechs' long strides.

"They don't believe me. But then, I haven't turned over the data you and Yuy found either." The man's smile didn't reach his eyes, and was that an unusually long canine tooth I saw?

"Oh!"

Everyone followed his lead with varying degrees of hostility. Quatre was the least concerned. It was all "terribly mysterious" to him, giggle, giggle. Jesus, you'd think he'd invented sex the way he was sending out "first time" signals.

And Trowa—time to get him, I thought. "You still have green sparkles, Tro."

"Do I? And I thought it was gay dandruff."

Cute. He wasn't cranky enough. I thought as part of this strange adventure that Heero and Trowa were involved in, somehow, he'd be spitting on Zechs' good times. I guess it was just me and 'Ro who were both grumbling and moody.

Heero laughed. He laughed at what Trowa said. He messed with the top of Trowa's head, sending a cascade of green sparkles down his shoulders.

"Pretty, Barton." Yep. Heero said that, too. Smiling.

"That from the queer who writes poetry. I'll give you _pretty_, Yuy."

Trowa smacked Heero's hands away and they traded punches until Quatre dashed between them and stupidly got caught in the crossfire. Man, how I'd longed to have connected with Quatre's gut at one time. Possibly in the present tense, now that I thought about it. Ah, well… Heero managed to cuff Trowa on the head one more time, and it rained green sparkles onto Quatre, sending him into a pouting session. That ended when Trowa mashed their faces together muttering something about his being "cute when you do that."

Gag. You didn't catch me an' 'Ro acting all gay in public. No, sirree.

"I'll help you with your sample," Heero said, his warm breath tickling my ear. "We can share a stall, if that is all right with you?"

Heero's mood was rather high. That meant that it was just me who was a bit testy about being pushed around by Zechs. 'Ro had put up with singing and dancing, which I'd enjoyed despite the Gregory treatment, and come through smiling. The least, the very least I could do was obey Zechs and not make a scene.

"Okay."

Thank the Gods above that the men's room was empty. I would have been more grateful if the stalls had been cleaner and bigger, but I could work with what I got handed.

"Duo, can I…?"

"Uh, yeah…"

And watching 'Ro unzip his jeans and fumble with mine was something I could work with just fine.

From the sounds coming from the stall further on, Trowa was "helping" Quatre acquire his sperm sample, too. Headline news: Winner heir gets gay handjob in backroom john by ex-circus performer. In a related event, downtown mortuary owner "stalled" by local artist in gay sex scandal.

"Ah, jeez, brain; gimme a break!"

It was crazy being all cooped up in a men's bathroom like that, hearing others get off a few feet away. Kinda dirty and way hot. Heero hardly had time to get the vial into place; I just took off like a rocket seeing his hand on me like that.

"Jesus!" Would I ever get any self-control? Not at this rate.

Quatre was giggling. Great. That kept Heero flaccid for a whole two seconds. I looked him in the eye…no, I couldn't tear my eyes away from the erection weeping in my hand.

"Duo," growled my boyfriend whose patience was wearing thin.

One, two, three, weeee and we were done. Sample collected. Stress relieved. Mood funky.

In the end, Zechs got his brown-paper-bagged "DNA" and promised to supply answers to everything on Monday, including to my off-putting, repeated question "how did you know we were at that airport at that time?" And then he left, leaving us standing around feeling rather sheepish; or, at least, I did.

Man, the inside of the playhouse was a zoo. Props half designed moving about, lights blinking, people running about in the strangest costumes. As much as I wanted to get out of the noise, I knew it was time to leave and knew it meant the end of my fun time with Heero so I kinda preferred just standing in the way and looking dumb.

Heero would have stood all day with me, I think, but Quatre rounded us up and pointed to the exit.

We all parted ways soon after. I had to do some shopping for food, laundry, turn out the vermin from my place. I was always getting something nasty. Mice, roaches, ants, spiders, moths, mold. Never baked ham, roses, cold beer.

I had phone messages up the kazoo. I plowed through the ones for work filling out a calendar of upcoming events. There was a message from both my new employees.

"Hi, this is En-dee-vee (she spelled 'Endive' like the vegetable). I wanted to tell you I'll be about five minutes late if it's cold and my car doesn't start. Just five. And it's gonna get fixed this weekend if I can get my good-for-nothing boyfriend to work on it. Um, too much information, huh? Okay, well, see ya in the morning. Bye."

"Yo, it's Drace (Andres, nicknamed 'Drey' or 'Dres'). Gotcher message. Thanks. I'll be there at eight like you say. Thanks for giving me a chance at doing something honest. Right. Later, dude. Ah, goodbye."

Okay. Next were calls from Hilde. I didn't bother listening. I just dialed and hoped she'd pick up and be alone.

"Hey, Hil. It's Du--"

"Hey yourself, stranger. Where have you been?"

"Just a few days off, with 'Ro."

"Days _off_? Days? Off? DAYs? You never take a vacation. Okay, this 'Ro dude's good for you then. You happy?"

"Very. You?"

"Top of the world. My 'Fei is a gem. Courteous, thoughtful, refined, honest and sexy as hell… he can cook, he's clean, smart, and he works."

"And he's crazy about you?"

"Damned straight he is. He's on to something big with his new job. He's with Preventers now, you know? Oh, he's partnered with a real tough agent, Lucy Noin? Something like that. Kinda sounds like that domineering dominatrix PR lady that worked for Solo, you know? Oh, sorry, Duo, really. I didn't mean to bring him up. Sorry."

I stopped her nervous blather with some platitudes. "Forget it, I have. Don't worry. It's okay…blah, blah, blah…"

Lucrezia Noin had made a bundle handling Solo's PR as his career soared. Obviously she and I were not friends. As far as she was concerned, I was the secret gay lover and stumbling block to Solo's super stardom. From my point of view, she was the reason he wouldn't make a permanent commitment to me. From PR bitch to Preventer dominatrix was no stretch of anybody's imagination.

"We made it to the play rehearsal," I said to find a new topic.

"Good for you. Was it terrible? I can't imagine Heero trying to deliver lines in that flat monotone of his."

"Play practice was fun, actually. I get to sing and dance. Who knew I was so talented?" I joked. I couldn't carry a tune; Solo had always told me so and he knew talent.

"I always said you could sing. You can really emote. And you are a great dancer. My first choice."

"Before Chang?"

"Okay, second, but not because he's a better dancer."

"Ahhhh, I've missed you, ya know?"

"Me, too, sweetie. Just 'cause we got boyfriends, shouldn't mean we don't get together now and then, right? How 'bout something special, like… coffee in the morning?"

"Very funny."

"Well, it's a pretty sure thing I'll get a 'yes', right?"

"Right."

"So, everything good?"

"Mostly."

"Mostly? How 'bout in the sack? Yuy a good lover?"

"Hil! That's pretty personal stuff."

"God, Duo, why else would I ask? Tell ya what. I'll tell you one thing if you tell me one thing. Deal? I'll start. Wufei's great and all that but his one shortcoming is that he's not very…inventive. He really needs to read up on some fun stuff. Any suggestions?"

"You're asking me about hetero sex?"

"Eh! What was I thinking? Forget it, I'll get my info off the internet. Read some smutty stories. Okay, your turn."

"I don't know…"

"One thing."

"Well, things are just about perfect."

"Just about?"

"Yeah. There's just this one little thing."

"And that is—"

"We're both, uh… It's like we like the same, uh… shit."

"Are you both tops or bottoms, is that it? I mean, that's about all there is to figure out from what I can tell."

"No, there's more to it. Lots more. But… this is hard, um... Yeah, we're both the same side of the coin."

"That stops you from having sex?"

"No! Jeez, Hil… It's really no show stopper… just something we gotta work out. No biggie. Now, that's all I'm gonna say."

"He looks pretty intimidating with his death glare. My guess? Tops. Neither one of you wants to play 'woman' to the other. Am I right?"

"I'm not going to talk about this any more. Final. Um, I gotta wash some clothes and put away the rest of the groceries."

"Yeah, sure. You are one prude of a gay boy, Duo Maxwell."

"Am not. I just don't kiss and tell."

"Uh, huh…see you in the morning then?'

"For coffee? Yeah, got it. Bye, Hil."

"Ciao, sugar."

Heero. Yeah. Last night in Heero's room at the palace was pretty stupid, me especially. Just thinking about it made me feel stupid. I was mortified for myself.

As I undressed him, I slapped a condom and tube of tube in his hand. "Please."

And then I regretted my forwardness with a vengeance. I couldn't take back what the things meant, or what' I'd intended. We hadn't talked about fucking, but we were both experienced with it so I figured, let him do me and see how it goes. But the look on his face! Terror? Horror? I couldn't tell, but I was sure I'd done the wrong thing. I hadn't thought I could read him so wrong, but… there it was. Plain as day.

He pushed my hand away. "No, you, um, first, all right?"

Not all right, but better than what I though he'd meant.

"'Ro, I, uh, can't. How 'bout you--?"

"No, _you_. I've never. I-I don't know--?"

We wore out the outer packaging on the condom we tossed it back and forth so much. Then we decided we weren't ready to put it to use yet and trashed it. The lube went into a drawer. Sheesh. We were both bottoms and totally subs when it came to sex. I thought it, our perfect fit, was all too easy, too good to be true.

Mutual blowjobs we were comfortable with, so that's what we decided to stick with for awhile. And my 'Ro was really, really good. He knew what a guy liked, for sure. He said he was learning from me. Well, that was nice of him. It was all good.

Looking back, I'd felt kinda stupid at first, but really, he was so fuckin' sexy and willing to please. Problem was… so was I. We would have made an utterly pathetic pair 'cept we made it work at last and now, lying in bed listening to microwave heating my cup-a-soup, I missed him sorely. I'd learn how to do a kick off as long as he'd be my receiver. And we'd work out the reverses, too.

(o)

Hilde and Wufei were already slurping coffee with Heero by the time I rushed into the shop. It was going to be one of those days. No matching socks, clothes forgotten in the drier and wrinkled to rags, missing bus pass, those were only bad in retrospect. Fighting over my toast with a full-grown and much more aggressive rat had freaked me out. I really needed to move before the vermin started in on me.

Explaining my morning to them brought the others mirth and happiness so it was worth it. Wufei wanted to discuss our holiday, but I only had time to remark that 'sewer surfing was a highlight," when Quatre and Trowa glided in on a cloud. Trowa left to care for their orders, and Quatre watched him with blatant admiration.

"So, are you still doing that play?" Hilde kicked his foot to get his attention.

"Play? Oh, yes. In fact we have dress rehearsal coming up pretty soon."

I felt miffed about the play, still. Mostly, it bugged me that everyone else was kinda getting into it and it was just another way Zechs and his sister were interferring in my life... and Heero's. I probably looked angry, but when Heero patted my arm sympathetically and encouraged me to breathe deeply, I calmed down. "Anyway, the performance is soon, if you're interested."

Of course she was, and Wufei, too, expressed a desire to see us making fools of ourselves in public. Everyone wanted tickets, so Quatre offered to take care of that. Quatre gazed unfocused into the distance, past the dusty binds. Behind them, the sun blazed. He liked the heat, he had told me on numerous occasions when I was complaining about it. His family had come from the L4 desert people, so the steady heat of summer was in his blood. I wondered if he would take Trowa on a trip to the desert. He'd once told me he'd take me some winter. I smiled. Not any more. I imagined Trowa at his side, listening to music, driving under the open skies, and smelling the sagebrush.

"How am I doing for time?" I asked 'Ro.

Heero checked his watch, but before he could say anything, Trowa arrived with two coffees in to-go cups and he gave me the word. "Time to open the shop, Duo."

It was fun to watch Quatre's face change the moment Trowa showed up. And I was okay with it. I understood how he felt. I had my 'Ro. When I looked at him, when I even just _thought_ about Heero Yuy, the admiration filled my heart to the brim, then bubbled over into a smile. An inner-warmth I'd never experienced before sent a thrill through me. I knew it was love, and it was turning my world upside down. Everything I wanted to do began with the word "Heero." I prized this new feeling.

"See ya, 'Ro. Call?"

"Yes. I'll call you later."

I hated to part from his company, but I knew it was time to take off to meet the new employees and the newly dead which had accumulated over at the competing mortuary and needed to be picked up. I actually hoped Zechs would show up early.

He wouldn't, nightowl that he was, but just the same—

Trowa and I made the short walk to the mortuary together, leaving our boyfriends to answer Wufei's prying questions, or not. Trowa was still sporting a green freckle or two, but it looked as if he'd tried hard to rid himself of the sparkles.

I opened my mouth to point out that very fact when he stopped me. "Don't. Just don't."

"Heh, heh… Yeah, glad my boyfriend's not into stuff like that."

I spent most the morning acclimating my new employees, Endive and Andres, to the strange surrounds. I was already wasted and we hadn't a body to work on! That's the trouble with vacations. When you get back things are worse than ever. When Zechs meandered in about noon, I sent him directly on his way with Dres and Endive both to load up the bodies on ice and bring in the start of our work week's jobs. That left Trowa and me a moment alone. Time to bring up a topic I'd been thinking about for some time.

"Tro', buddy of mine?"

He looked unsure whether to run or put up a fight. "Yeah?"

"How about we do this as a partner thing? I've been thinking, since about the week after you signed on here, that I could use the cash and the help. 'Course I don't know if you have anything saved up, but if you were interested in co-owning a…"

"How much?" He grinned.

I grinned. "Let me show you the books."

It was a lot of money, and he'd need a month or two to round it up. "Quatre thinks I've got funds somewhere. Something's paid for my upkeep. I've saved some, too, but I'd rather not take out a gigantic loan if I didn't have to."

"So, how do you think you'd find out?"

"If I can have a few days, I'm going to track down the circus I grew up with and get some answers. And Zechs promised me that lead."

"Take off the time you need."

"I'll see that these newbie's are settled in first."

"Thanks, Tro'. This'll be great."

"You sure? This business has been your baby. Hard to share that, isn't it?"

"Truthfully?" I thought about the tussle with the rat and how the infusion of cash could bring me closer to a new home. "No."

We had a bit of a laugh and talked over the division of labor and how a partnership would work. We bet Quatre would be able to give us some pointers, too.

If I could get my work life under control, maybe my private life would fall into place, or at least I'd have time for it to grow. I needed to make more time for Heero in my life.

By afternoon, Zechs was reunited with me and the new recruits, and Trowa in the morgue, working. Zechs had information to share but wouldn't dare with the newcomers in the room. From what I could glean, the DNA information would be taking a lot longer than he'd expected, just as long as I had known it would, despite his throwing his name and money at the lab doing the work. The tension was thick, but Trowa and I were tight enough to endure just about anything.

"There are times when we have to do the thoracic cavity embalming right after we're finished with the arterial injection of embalming fluid," Trowa explained to Andres and Endive.

Endive nodded in understanding while she removed the tubes and sealed the opened jar of formalin. "I remember. It hasn't been that long since I interned at Matt's Mort."

"But you went back to the hospital," Trowa reminded her. "Think of this as a refresher, while it may be new to Dres (pronounced "dray") here."

"The chest looks pretty caved in on that one," Zechs noted. He eyed the proceedings critically, because he was bored, waiting for a pick up call, and trying to avoid my presence, the last not actually being possible.

Trowa ignored Zechs for the most part, which he was good at by now, and continued speaking directly to the new hires. He hadn't been crazy about Zechs as a volunteer, and as much as he hadn't wanted the pick-up business Zechs was doing, he understood what the increased business meant to the bottom line. But besides all that, I could tell there was some underlying problem between the two men. Trowa had lost his memory and Zechs seemed to know things he wasn't sharing that would help him. I couldn't blame him. It was understandable, probably more so than Heero's 'vampire' delusions. (Sorry 'Ro, but you are odd that way.)

"Feels like we've been gone weeks," I put in for good measure.

Trowa shrugged. "Yeah. Well, we need to reorder more of the _approved _cavity filler."

"I know..." I sighed. "I reordered it last Monday."

"It that what these are?" Zechs asked, standing. He'd been using the stack of bags as a chair.

"Show Dres how to fill the bin, please," Trowa ordered. Only I heard the muttered, "…lazy cretin."

"At Mort's we packed bodies using kitty litter." Endive smiled. "'S true!"

"That was clean, never-used kitty litter, I hope," Zechs muttered.

Trowa returned to his instructions. "Now, re-aspirate the lungs, and then the windpipe gets corked. All the exterior openings have got to be corked off."

"I can understand sealing them. Why not just super-glue them shut?" Endive asked.

At least she hadn't suggested the amateur, universal, fix-all: duct tape.

"When the remains are available for viewing, we have to do a last minute check of the abdominal and thoracic regions for any signs of bloating caused by gaseous buildup. If there's some distention, pressure is relieved by opening anal vent, thus the removable cork."

"That is done in the slumber room, of course, when no one is looking," I said with a chuckle.

Trowa looked at me, his green eyes narrowed. "No kidding..."

"Which reminds me of another fun tale from my formative years with Howard. I had been starting out dressing the dead before showings. I remember dressing this guy, probably mid twenties or so. Anyway, I had dressed him in what was his first suit and tie, and felt proud of how he'd turned out. I sat out with the family, at the back of the room during the funeral service just to witness the parent's joy in his appearance. Then, only minutes after the funeral services ended, when the lid was about to be lifted for viewing– everyone was lining up, and I was so excited-- the body caught fire inside the closed coffin. There was smoke shooting out of the cracks."

"You're kidding, right?" Trowa wasn't sure whether to believe my stories anymore or not.

Zechs was shaking his head. Disbeliever.

"No, it really happened," I insisted.

"I've heard it can happen," Endive said. "Embalming fluids can spontaneously combust."

"Really?" The other newbie, Dres, straightened, and glared at the bottle closest to him as if it might explode any second.

"It scarred me deeply." I let out a protracted sigh. "All that trouble I'd gone to, and no one ever noticed. The guy had looked very nice, too, better than when he'd been alive. Drug addict, under-nourished, ill, scruffy, when he'd come in."

I was talking mostly to myself, which was just as well since the sound of the telephone drown out what I'd said.

Further comment was shelved, while Zechs grabbed the receiver. "Maxwell's Mortuary and Funeral Home. May I help you? We certainly do make pickups. Riverbend Nursing Home on Sixth and River Road. I'll be right there. Thank you for calling."

He pulled on his expensive-looking jacket and checked the kit for clean sheets and gloves. "After collecting bodies from tubs, cars, and fields in the dark, a fresh one out of a room should be a pleasure."

I must say it was a relief to have Zechs go out. Trowa called me over. "Duo's an artist at this. Want to demonstrate you second-to-none mouth sealing techniques?"

"Sure, it's not that I'm particularly adept at the process, it's more that he's not, heh, heh... Okay, the reason it's so important to do a good job is that the mouth of the deceased is the focal point when folks view the remains in the casket. In fact, the mouth's expression determines how the relatives of the deceased relate to the body, whether they accept it as their lost one or not. So, it's our job to make them look natural. To do that the mouth is sutured shut and thoroughly waxed. Watch me."

"And no super-glue," Andres said, with a wry smile in place.

"No dickhead," Endive snapped back. "Maybe not in this mortuary, but at Mort's—"

"There are a few lazy 'progressive' embalmers who do. I swear by a needle and catgut. Like this." I did a partial line of stitches. "Now both of you try, and don't pull too tightly."

"How's that?" Dres muttered as he stood back to let me check out his stitches.

"Okay, that's pretty good. Next, you apply a coating of softened wax to both the upper and lower lip so they don't dry out and start cracking and flaking. Just do half and let Endive do the rest."

"Looks natural," Endive commented.

"That's the idea." I studied her technique as she finished off the lip. "You had a different introduction to morgue work than me."

She laughed aloud. "Ha! No kidding! All kinds of stuff went on at Mort's place, because no one cared about crooks and crazies. There was this one morgue attendant who regularly extracted the organs from corpses-- without permission from the families of the deceased, of course-- and then he sold the parts to researchers. The morgue sold pituitary glands for about 50 cents each to fund last year's staff Solstice party."

When both Andres and Endive laughed, Trowa and I joined in. It wasn't at all funny, but we were in good moods and starting to bond a little. I felt a breeze as the outer door opened.

"What's so funny?" Zechs asked while he rolled the full cot toward the lift down to the cold storage locker. "Nothing mysterious here, just an old lady. She can keep."

"Just a mortuary story," Trowa said through a chuckle. "Go on, it can keep too."

(o)

We were all at Quatre's apartment, but he wasn't there. We were waiting for him, but I had forgotten why as I enjoyed stretching out on his nice couch, listening to music, while Trowa and Heero played a card game on the floor nearby.

I was jostled awake when Quatre pushed a bundle of clothes into my arms. "…then you can have these. They should fit…"

"Ready?" Heero was looking into my face waiting for an answer.

"For what?"

Trowa laughed. "The dude's been on cloud nine all day. What did you do to him, Yuy? Oh, guess I shouldn't ask, heh…"

Heero actually blushed. He hadn't done a thing to me, which was a bit of a problem. At the mortuary, we'd been pretty busy the last few days making up, finally, for lost time. Heero and I had had a good weekend in his room, but we had avoided the "who's on top?" question completely by sticking to what was mutually satisfying. I had had a killer day, so had Trowa, and he knew I was tired.

"Cloud…? Hey, I'm sitting right here. And Quat? What's this crap I'm holding for you?"

Now they were laughing at me. Quatre was going on about how "this had been planned for weeks" and how could I have forgotten after "showing up on my doorstep tonight?"

Heero took pity on me. "We are invited to a Halloween party. Quatre borrowed outfits for us from the costume department for the playhouse. That is yours. Would you like to go with me?"

Well, damn. I wasn't going to let my boyfriend go without me! "Okay."

The party was to be close to campus with buddies of Quat's. "You'll recognize at least a few of my business school chums from our dating days," he promised me with a dainty smirk. "Although, it will take them a moment to place you," he added with an even sneerier smirk.

And it was no wonder.

My costume was that of a fluffy-tailed white rabbit. I was THE Alice in Wonderland White Rabbit with a waistcoat, tie, and broken pocket watch.

Heero wore a cool green-plaid suit with a foppish tie and ridiculously oversized top hat. He was the Mad Hatter.

Quatre was a cute little gray dormouse, and Trowa was even stupider-looking than me in a pink and green striped cat outfit.

"God," he groaned in the mirror. Quatre had just finished painting his face and he looked himself over. "I wish I _could_ disappear."

Trowa was the Cheshire Cat.

Quatre pulled himself away from the mirror where he was primping. "Don't say that! You are adorable!"

"Fuck…"

Now, _that_ was funny. "You two can play…heh, heh…cat and mouse all night, heh, heh…" I howled long enough that Trowa threatened to trade costumes with Heero.

Heero said he didn't care which costume he wore, but that he didn't think the taller man could fit into his pants. I know Trowa wasn't sure if Heero was joking or not, so he just gave up and went off to play cat and mouse like I'd said in the first place, the idiot.

"Couldn't you've found an 'Alice' dress for Maxwell?" I heard Trowa ask his boyfriend.

Heero suddenly had his hands on my ass, messing with my 'tail'.

"Hey!" I chirped before he silenced me with a sloppy kiss.

After that we storlled over to the pary, where things were already rolling. There was music and food, though what remember best of that was dipping marshmallows in melted chocolate, feeding it to Heero, and licking the dribbles off his face. I'd had a drink or two by then. A lot of something that looked like swamp water but was, Quatre told me, kiwi fruit blended with vodka and gingerale.

I crammed a few 'finger" foods into my mouth then made a sandwich of sorts starting with a split hoagy roll. Heero was slathering a plate of chips with melted cheese and talking with Trowa. Nice. I liked that Trowa and Heero were finding some common ground. I piled on some salami, sliced tomatoes, jalapeños and a squirt of mustard, when Trowa nudged my back.

"Huh?" I said.

"That's some hot sub you got for a boyfriend, boss-man." I turned around in time to catch his smile, but not much.

I looked down at my sandwich. Submarine sandwich. "Sub?"

"You figure it out,' he said with a chuckle this time then made his way across the room, me tracking him all the way and wondering why he thought my sandwich was my boyfriend. Weird, but then he did work in a morgue—by choice. Had to give him a lot of latitude for that, poor dumbass.

"Hey, Quat! You know when it's bad luck to meet a black cat? When you're a mouse, ha, ha, ha!"

"Duo, aren't you getting tired of the mouse jokes yet?"

"Nope!" I said and his little nose twitched in anticipation.

"How about a change of subject matter?" Quatre looked at me and I shrugged. "Okay then, I have a quote; guess who said this: 'Having sex is like playing bridge. If you don't have a good partner, you'd better have a good hand.'"

Heero was very good at the movie line game. As I expected, he guessed correctly. "Woody Allen said that."

Trowa chuckled. "Bet you never heard this one: 'Bisexuality immediately doubles your chances for a date on Saturday night.'" When the Mad Hatter gave up guessing where the quote was from, the Cheshire Cat told him, "Rodney Dangerfield."

"I thought of one." All eyes turned to Heero. He wasn't a joke-telling sort of guy, so everyone was on alert and I knew they were preparing those polite laughs to encourage him. Don't get me wrong. The guys liked my 'Ro, Trowa especially seemed to respect him and appreciate his quiet strength, or lack of it, whichever. Still, I thought it was condescending of them to lead him on.

"Go ahead, Heero," Quatre said.

"All right. So I was watching Zechs and it made me think about vampires." He colored slightly and I wondered if he wasn't just a teensy-weensy bit attracted to the tall blond. "So, what do you think is a vampire's favorite fast food?"

"A blood drive-thru?" That was Trowa the comedian.

Heero just smiled. "Good one. I, ah, thought it might be a guy with very high blood pressure…?"

That was funny and we all laughed genuine laughs. Man, I was proud of him and his shy smile and deadly eyes. Dark hair, slightly shaggy in his eyes because of the hat-- I loved the whole package. I had this overwhelming urge to strip off my clothes and beg him to take me, right there on the floor of Ed Whoever's loft. I didn't and wouldn't, but the compulsion was there just the same.

I ate my sandwich, my sub, while watching Heero eat his and pushing my left ear out of my face.

"I thought rabbits only ate vegetables," he said.

"Only vegetarian ones. Me, I'm a fairytale rabbit, and I wiggle my fairy tail to prove it." I did and he chuckled.

"Duo, you have had too much to drink. And you have to get up early. I should see you home."

"Okay." He was right.

Trowa met us going out the door. "Going? Want to change at Quatre's and I'll take the costumes back?'

I nodded as Trowa gave me a set of keys, adding, "We'll give you an hour's head start," and then with a wink of his eye, catted away.

"Thanks."

I leaned toward Heero just a little closer than usual on the walk home, and he didn't complain or push me away. That was nice. And when we got to Quat's, I wasn't sad to lose the white fur, but I would miss Heero in a suit and top hat.

Telling him that just got me a skeptical look, but then he tipped his hat, a little further and out fell an envelope. He caught it in mid air and held it out to me. "For you."

"Me? Oh, yeah."

My monthly greeting card depicted a scary scene with a looming castle, bat-filled night sky, and evil-looking demon lurking in the shadows. In the foreground, however, stood a couple, locked in an embrace, two men, kissing in the lamplight. Us. He painted us, me with my braid and him.

"This is too cool, 'Ro."

"Did you read what's inside?"

"No." I opened the card and read aloud, "**Thrill me, chill me, haunt my heart forever."**

It was all Heero, all his odd and interesting facets and talents tucked into a single card. And it was mine.

And that's when I needed to tell him about Solo. The music was muted and no one was going to interrupt us. If I could do this, say Solo's name without falling apart, then it must mean I was ready for this new commitment, right? So I tried.

"'Ro? You know how I had a boyfriend before and how after him it took me a while to start dating again?"

"Yes, I remember."

"He, ah... was kinda famous. Keeping us a secret..." and then I choked up "...really hurt."

I was wrapped in Heero's embrace before I said anything more. "If you want to leave--?"

I shook my head. He felt solid and honest, if that could have a form. "I want to say this." I wanted to say this without crying or making a scene is what I wanted. "His name was Solo. The singer."

Heero took that revelation extremely well. He was the most composed I'd ever seen him. "The singer/songwriter. His being gay was certainly a secret. that must have been terrible for you."

"Yeah. He promised me life together. H-house... future, ya know?"

Heero nodded. "You would like the space and privacy."

"Uh, huh. And the owning. I had the mortuary by that time, done all the upgrades and all, but I never had a house of my own, so it was like a dream come true. A-and then he died."

Heero pulled me tighter. I didn't know what he was thinking. This entire ordeal couldn't have been fun for him. I was telling him he was coming in number two to my ex. But that wasn't true! "He didn't leave a will or anything, so I... I--"

"You recieved nothing. Oh, Du--"

"I had nothing. Not even a place to live 'cause his family swept in and swept me out and took over and suddenly I was there sleeping in my office with his b-body waiting for me to autopsy and then the funeral..."

"You were... you **are** inhumanly strong, love."

"I wasn't. No, I almost didn't make it throught all that."

"But you did. You are here. You survived."

He was right. "The Claremonts helped me."

"I am glad they did. I like them very much. And I love you."

I did it! I told him about Solo and he was still holding me, loving me, and I was so glad I'd come clean. "I am so lucky," I told him. "I thought my life was over back then. Yet, here I am with you feeling like the best is yet to come."

He looked up to meet my eyes, and smiled. "I feel the same way. I'd like to kiss you here, all right?"

"I, ah, love you, too, 'Ro, sure."

He squeezed my hand for a second and kissed me gently, then as if he suddenly remembered where we were, he drew back. "This is all right?"

"Quat and me are way over, 'Ro, you know that. They are giving us this time together. Trowa knows we need it. And... and... I don't wanna cover up for us any more. I think I'm about ready for making us public."

"I think I can handle that too, which is fortunate because I think we were photographed by a couple cellphones tonight and I can't help how I look at you."

How I loved him! "If I lose some business, so be it. Besides, you know how I asked Trowa to buy into the mortuary? Well, he's not gonna hide his sexual preferences, so why should I, right? Oh, um, if that's... "

"Put down the card if you don't want it crushed."

That was the only warning I got before he stripped me naked and gave me a mindblowing blowjob. He had hands that read my needs like braille. We were good together, no matter what.

**A/N: If you would like this card, send me your email either via a review from a profile with your email or in a separate message. Happy Hauntings this Halloween!**

* * *

End Chapter 20

TBC in Chapter 21 -- November Storms part 1


	21. November Storms, Part 1

**Greeting Cards**

This is an on-going story arc, based on Heero's greeting cards, and updated monthly, at least.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

A/N: Thanks, Waterlily, for the editing assistance.

**Warnings:** AU, overt male/male pairings, language, some embalming and autopsies topics covered.

**Chapter 21 --**

**November Storms, Part 1**

* * *

Rain may have washed the streets clean, but inside Maxwell's Mortuary and Funeral Home we were awash in the red stuff. We were catching up at work in the morgue, which was going great with the two new employees. Zechs was bringing in one last job from a rest home; Endive was a few doors away standing in for me for her first time as funeral director; and Tro', 'Dres, and I were mopping up after an embalming job.

"…Work wasn't going so good after that so when my boss 'gifted' me with a pair of cats I didn't think I could turn them down without risking my job. Of course, one of the cats turned out to be pregnant and dropped a litter of four. And then my girlfriend moved in, and then out, but left all her cats," Andres said mournfully. "So now I have 12 cats to take care of."

"Ha! No kidding!"

I had to laugh. Twelve cats in one little apartment was just plain too awful to imagine. Plus, I was in a good mood. With all the help and everything set for the funeral service, I'd decided to take off a little early to meet Heero for dinner. _And more_.

I was especially looking forward to the _more _part. I'd prepared days ago, buying KY and condoms by the boxful in enough different colors and shapes to accommodate a gay soccer league. I bought a new futon which, if we got pressed for time, could serve as dining area, entertainment center, and love nest. The old mattress I pushed out the stairwell under the overhang near the garbage where it would be snatched up by someone even lower than me on the social scale.

I cleaned my apartment, twice. Dishes, counter (it was that color once?) floors (as hopeless as removing the upper crust there was,) and the (ugh) bathroom all got the once-over. I used up all my bleach and sponges, but in the end it smelled better and looked less inhospitable. I figured if I didn't bring in any food for a week, the vermin would move on, so I ate in my car and at work.

"What did you do before you built this business?" Andres' earnest expression pointed my way meant I'd missed some of the conversation leading up to this question.

"Same thing, but for someone else. All kinds of stuff went on at _that_ first job," I told whoever was listening. "No one cared about crooks and crazies. There was this one morgue attendant who routinely extracted a variety of organs from corpses without permission from the families of the deceased, and then he sold the parts to researchers. Oh, I had proof! I discovered, while digging through their records, that the morgue sold pituitary glands for about 50 cents each to fund a staff Solstice party. God, Howard was such a slimeball, but a good man, real good to me."

Trowa and Andres laughed. It wasn't all that funny, but they were in good humor, too. My frame of mind was catching and Trowa was taking off a few days to spend with Quatre 'researching' his circus past, giving him in an especially bright outlook.

The outer door opened. "What's so funny?" Zechs asked as he rolled a cot toward the elevator to the cold storage locker.

Trowa was looking his way expectantly, and I couldn't blame him. Not more work!

Zechs waved his hand as if to brush away our fears. "Nothing mysterious here, just an old lady. She can keep."

"Duo was telling a story," Dres said through a chuckle, but further discussion was cut short by a cry for help, as my other new mortuary employee, Endive, rushed into the autopsy room.

"Oh, thank the gods you're still here, Duo. Come quickly. We have the wrong body for the funeral!"

The public funeral parlor rooms and the autopsy rooms were separated by a hall, offices, doors, and a _stringent _policy. The clients were _never_ to know what occurred beyond those doors. Lines of propriety partitioned one world from the other, and rarely were the lines crossed. But when they were, it could only mean a serious breach had occurred in the fabric of space and time.

My smile faded fast. "Calm down. What's the problem?"

The young assistant was beside herself. "The funeral is about to begin and the widow says it's the wrong body, er, man in the casket!"

"Terrific," I growled. "Come with me, Endive." I stormed out into the hallway. "I hate these night services. Things always get screwed up, and there's no one to take care of it but me." I really wanted to get out, go home, and get cleaned up before going out with Heero. I continued grumbling all the way to the outer door. Someone would have to be fired.

It didn't take long for me to figure out what the trouble was. I'm sure as all my other employees trailed closer, that they could hear the widow lamenting her most **Appalling Discovery** through the closed doors.

"That's right, I took one look at my dear, dear departed husband and, to my horror, he's in a _brown _suit. I'd specifically said that I wanted him buried in his _blue _suit. I had brought it especially for this occasion. It is most distressing, SHOCKING to me that the mortician had left him in the same brown suit he'd been wearing when the lightning bolt hit him. I demand that my husband be changed IMMEDIATELY into the blue suit I brought especially for that purpose!"

I let out a long, shuddering sigh of relief. It wasn't the wrong cadaver, just the wrong clothes. The assistant had the story wrong and it wasn't so bad. Trowa or I would have solved the problem immediately with a minimum of fuss and our signature flare. Trowa could accomplish tasks that would take two or three men working together simultaneously to do, and he would do them with precision. In fact, he wouldn't have let it happen at all, and he certainly wouldn't have let it escalate to this degree. Sadly for me, Trowa couldn't be in two or three places at once and the new hires were not his equals. Not even close.

Endive, however, thought she could still solve the problem or show off and chose to argue with the client. "But ma'am! It's only a minute or two until the funeral is scheduled to begin. We can't possibly take him out and get him changed in that amount of time."

To which the woman replied logically, "Who's paying for this?"

Trowa made his entry and whispered to me, "You take care of the lady; I'll deal with the deceased, okay?"

"Okay, as long as you take Endive with you." That girl needed a tad more training to fit my needs. I turned to the customer with my most apologetic expression. "Excuse me, ma'am. We'll take care of the problem at once. Please accept our humblest apologies--" I continued on, smoothing the irate woman's feathers as Trowa wheeled the coffin out, down the hall, and back into autopsy suite.

(o)

I rolled the coffin out of the 'presentation' rooms and into the hallway, the new woman-hire alternating between defeat and anger trailing behind. I had no doubt that Duo would have the widow calmed down and charmed with him in no time. He had a talent that way I admired. It was up to me to correct the mistake we made, somehow. And I had wanted to check out early today, so I had better solve it fast.

"What are we going to do, Trowa?" Andres asked me. His voice was always marked by tragedy. 'Course, if I had a dozen cats dumped on me I'd be marked, too—by dozens of claws wounds.

"It wasn't my fault!" Endive stamped her foot. "And I'm not running out for a blue suit this time of night."

The few times we'd worked together, I notice how she always sounded defensive and shrill when she was protecting herself from criticism. I gave her some slack, though, because it was a difficult job for a woman. And, yeah, I'm sexist that way, but slugging around 200 pound rotting corpses is unappealing and doesn't attract many women to the field. I continued into the chilly cadaver keep. This was going to be no big deal.

"I'm sure you won't have to. Check this out." I pulled back a sheet covering another body revealing a man in the blue suit. "Just as I thought, you just put the wrong clothes on these two men."

Endive said, "How's that possible if the brown suit was the one he wore when he died?"

"Because he wasn't wearing that brown suit," I replied. "There are no singe or burn marks anywhere on it. The widow must be confused, but that's all okay. We'll remedy this."

Andres' breath left a visible puff in the frigid room. "Man... I've never dressed a dead man before, but I can tell you that it's going to take us a while to switch clothes."

"They look to be the same size and shape, right?" I smiled.

Endive did a quick comparison, and then offered up her opinion. "Mr. Blue Suit might be a tad thinner in the gut, but other than that, they're the same build."

"I agree. Good, we'll have this fixed in an instant. Dres, wheel Mr. Blue Suit here out, I'll get Mr. Brown, and we'll line them up in the autopsy room."

Dres did as he was told, while Endive watched, wondering what my brilliant idea was. When I told them what we were going to do, they _both_ paled. Cool, I could still shock the kiddies. Now, that's power.

"That can't be okay, can it?" Dres started blubbering. "I'm sure Duo wouldn't want us to do that."

"Who the hell cares?" Endive waved him off. "He's doing his job. I say, just do it and get it done with."

"Thanks for the support," I muttered as I got down to business. "Dres, if you would loosen that one's tie..."

(o)

I had the widow seated in an overstuffed chair by a glowing fireplace with a tumbler of damned good brandy, and was well into my reassuring story about her wise choices in funerary material, when only ten minutes later, Trowa wheeled the coffin back into the funeral parlor. Miraculously, the corpse was in its correct blue suit.

Oh, she was well-satisfied, and complimented him on the smooth and speedy service. "I especially want to know how you were able to get my husband into his blue suit so fast. Even alive, it took me hours of complaining to get him to dress himself."

Trowa tilted his head. "Oh, well... you see...that's a parlor secret." He gave her a disarming smile, tipped an invisible hat, and disappeared quickly. As I said, he was in high spirits that day.

I stayed by the coffin until the ceremony was about to begin, then rejoined my employees in the autopsy room. "All right, Trowa. How did you pull that one off so fast? Changing clothes, assuming you could find the clothes-- that they were even ever delivered-- would have taken you at least half an hour to get fixed properly. I have a nasty feeling about this."

"Oh, it was easy. It happens that there was another body in the cadaver keep, who was, as I suspected, already dressed in the blue suit. Luckily, the men had been close enough in size not to matter. All we had to do was switch heads."

He'd said that so effortlessly. Just rolled off his honey-coated tongue. I looked at Dres, who looked at me as if he'd swallowed a mouthful of pickled onions, and then at Endive, who may have sucked on a lemon dipped in salt, possibly.

"That was entirely your idea. Leave me and Dres outta it," Endive said, pulling her support out from under Trowa.

I focused on my almost-my-partner. "Can I speak privately with you a minute? In my office?" we rarely closeted ourselves up that way, but I didn't want to dress him down in frount of the pions. Once in the room, door closed, then I turned on him. "Tell me you...didn't." I felt my frown deepen.

He folded his arms over his chest protectively, the funeral schedule book in one hand. "I did and it's done."

"That is illegal. Shit, Trowa! The funeral home could lose its license over this."

"Only if someone reports it, and they won't. That guy's going to be buried in an hour. The other one," Trowa flipped through the funeral schedule book he'd filched on his way out, "has already been viewed and will be cremated in the morning. No one but us will ever know. And I know the law. It won't happen again."

I stretched to my full height, which was somewhat less than his, and glowered. "You bet it won't. You didn't know it wouldn't be viewed again when you did the switch. You just looked now. It's all just a matter of expedience with you, isn't it?"

"That's right, and it doesn't matter any more. Relax. You worry too much. We have plenty of other things to do tonight." Trowa strode away leaving me to deal with my anger internally.

Actually, I might have done the same thing, but I didn't want the newbies to think it was an ordinary occurrence. There were so many rules to teach them. So much training to do. And I couldn't do it all this day. I wanted to leave early and there was just the body Zechs had brought in to process. I could have punished Trowa and left him in charge to do that. I could have left. But…

Quatre appeared at the back entrance wanting to snag a hold of Trowa and leave on their trip immediately.

I was about to tell him just where _he_ could go immediately, but I caught the look of near-rapture on Tro's face, took pity on him, and sent him outside on a break. Let them hobnob a bit. I couldn't stay mad at him and there was work to be done.

"Dres, bring in that last body."

(o)

Duo was a little annoyed with me, but he sent me outside to see my boyfriend anyway. I couldn't remember ever feeling so care-free and cheerful before. Quatre lifted my spirits in an entirely new way each time we were together. Nothing seemed hopeless; solutions to every problem were in sight. And in his world, there were no dead bodies waiting in the cooler.

Quatre was sipping a pink milkshake in worn jeans and wrapped in a heavy Irish sweater with a deep v-neck and nothing under it. I instantly forgot the world on the other side of the door.

"So, is it good?" I asked.

"Ummm, you bet. Would you like a taste?" Quatre offered me the tall drink.

I sucked at the straw and shrugged. "Not bad. Kinda sweet for me and it's cold on a cold day like today." I rested my eyes on Quatre's lips, swollen slightly from the cold drink. My gaze rose slowly to meet his wide blue-green eyes. Quatre shivered. "See? You'll get brain-freeze if you drink that stuff too fast. Come 'ere."

I perched on a low wall separating the parking lot from a walkway and pulled Quatre onto my lap, and kissed him deeply. I liked kissing and holding Quatre. He was very solid but light-weight, making him terribly exciting. I imagined fondling him alone.

Quatre didn't usually hold back. He usually put his all into kissing, but not this afternoon. I felt Quatre's eyelashes brush my face, tickling me. "You're staring at me. Something wrong?" I asked.

"N-no, not really. I wasn't expecting you to do...that, I guess."

I thought his blush was adorable and his appearance of innocence almost too much for my self control. When I lowered my eyes, I could see sufficient flesh through the open neckline to put my urges into overdrive. My mind was going wild with sexual imaginings. "Do what? This?"

Oh, I knew what Quatre meant; I was enjoying my role as aggressor. I ran my tongue along his lower lip, and then pushed gently until I met with teeth. When Quatre started to object, opening his mouth, I slid in my tongue. He wiggled, but my hands held him firmly in place. I tickled my tongue against his, begging it to come out and play. He squirmed, arousing me further until I had to end the kiss with a gentle suck of his lower lip.

"French kissing was something I had never liked particularly—before." Quatre batted his eyelashes. "But I'm getting the hang of it, aren't I?"

"Um," I was glad Duo hadn't been around to hear that, "you are something else. It's a good thing your daddy kept you under guard for so long."

He giggled with delight. He liked the way I flirted with him and made him feel so desirable.

"That's just one of the things I like about you, Trowa. I don't have to worry when I'm with you."

I shook my head, and gave him a tight hug. "Oh, that's not true. You should be very worried. You are _very_ tantalizing."

He looked down, blushing. "I'm not a tease."

"No, you're right, you're not. I meant that you make me want you." My eyes flashed a warning, but I was smiling. "And I love you."

"Oh!" Quatre was caught off guard by my declaration. "Y-you do?"

"Yeah, I do. I just figured that out-- why I feel the way I do around you, why I want to be with you all the time. Nobody's ever made me feel this way. Nothing like this." I used a long, tanned finger to tilt up his chin. "I mean it. I'm serious here, Quatre."

"I love you, too," he said. "Oooh, that's feels so good to say, doesn't it? I love you."

"Hmmm."

"Oh, yes, let me try that again. I love you, Trowa. There, how did that sound?"

"Like the best thing I've ever heard. God, Quatre, I love you so much..." I pressed my lips to his, and shared a moment of bliss.

"You know, I don't know that much about you," Quatre said after catching his breath.

"You're right. I even keep my past from myself," I chuckled then added, "But I think you are the one to help me discover a few things." I took a deep breath and adjusted Quatre's position on my lap.

"Am I getting too heavy? I can get down..."

"No way," I chuckled deep in my throat. "I'm never letting you get away now that I have you in my clutches." I growled like a lion and pretended to bite his delicate neck playfully.

Quatre giggled more and pushed me away, enjoying the fun, until an unwelcome, familiar laugh interrupted us.

"Oh, ho, ho, ho, hoooooo! Who have we here? Oh, if it isn't my almost-partner making out behind the funeral home with my ex-boyfriend. How cozy. Trowa, why don't you take off? Get a head start on your trip. "

"You're sure?" I was grinning. I couldn't help it. I was in love and I had the best friends and the most understanding business partner there ever was.

"I'm sure. And… good luck."

"Thanks, Maxwell."

"So," Quatre smiled up at me and interlaced his fingers with mine, "did you have a good day?"

"It was okay. I decapitated two bodies and switched their heads around."

"Tro-wa!" He slapped my arm and bumped hips. "I'll never understand your job if you always joke around about it!"

(o)

"So, I sent Trowa away with his crush because he was going to be worthless the rest of the day anyway," Duo explained to me. "And that meant I couldn't get away early like I'd wanted to."

It was not necessary for him to explain. I understood his work was filled with unanticipated events and that his time could not be scheduled as accurately as mine could. "It's all right. I told you so. The dinner out idea can happen another time."

"Yeah. Good. We can rent a movie and get takeout and eat it at my place, okay, 'Ro?"

I calculated the time that would all take, making sure we had time for everything Duo wanted to do and still time to have sex before having to get some sleep.

"Agreed, although next time leaving work on time would give us more latitude for the… messing around part."

"I know. And I already explained the head switching and Trowa leaving part."

"And I said it was all right. As long as we have some time together. I do not care what I eat or watch."

"So, I can choose everything?"

"Yes."

"Pizza?"

"That will be fine."

We rented a movie and carried a couple pizzas and sodas to his apartment. We ate and watched a very silly slapstick movie, one of the latest just out on DVD, and cleaned up. It was a pleasant evening.

"You didn't laugh much," he told me as we converted his folded couch into a horizontal flat surface. "Did you like it?"

"Yes. I would have guessed that you would have chosen an action movie, though, and I thought you slept on a mattress before."

"Yeah, and that mattress had seen better days. This is new. Anyway, as to the movie choice, I see enough of the reality of the streets in the morgue. I need escapism. Is that wrong that I want to see a comedy movie?"

"No. Death, especially by violent means, should bother you, Duo. You are there to speak for those who can't and tell their story and sometimes even find their killers."

"Yeah, that's right. But what about when I become the killer, huh?"

"You--? Is that still bothering you?"

Duo shot off the floor, braid whipping me in the face. "Still? My jaw's still sore, and that was just a punch. I gutted another human being and ran off. Yeah, it's still bothering me."

He was getting all worked up. Waving his arms. I should have insisted he drink water instead of a sugary drink. I wanted some of that energy left for me, so I yanked on his shirt and dragged him down alongside me again.

"What you killed was a worthless piece of evil shit," I told him.

"I know, I know… But you didn't tell me to kill the guy. You probably could have knocked him over the head or something. I was about to kick him in the guts, which probably would have sent him and his knives sprawling. I'm pretty good at stuff like that. I don't know what I was thinking."

"You were reacting under pressure in self defense."

My own reflexes had once been honed to lightning-quick death strikes through years of training defending myself. But still, when Zechs had attacked me in the palace months ago, he had nearly bested me. Had I moved against Zechs any harder, I might have maimed the man. Duo hadn't that kind of training, so why did he expect so much from himself?

"I couldn't take the chance that he _wouldn't_ try to kill you or me. In the time I might have talked him out of it, he could have lunged."

"I know, and he had it coming to him. I agree."

"It's just… I wish someone other than me had done it."

"I have my regrets also." I looked Duo squarely in the eyes before closing them. "The work I did on that island was not something I will ever be proud of. Too much of it was unethical and borderline illegal."

We sat holding each other in silence. Justified or not, snuffing out lives was bad for the karma. Duo stirred in my arms and brought his face right up to mine. His eyes were huge, so huge I closed mine again to avoid falling into them.

"What if Une noticed that we left the island; I mean, we didn't even stop by and say goodbye."

"I do not know." My eyes opened a slit. "I doubt the scam was needed. No one even noticed the planes, most likely... anyway. I'd better go. Whether you realize it or not, you need to sleep now."

"Stay."

Duo struck out to stop me, the contact turning gentle and tingled where it contacted my shoulder. His anger had given him an edgy quality, which I found most appealing. Duo's greater momentum carried him forward, crushing my back into the futon. He closed in to kiss me.

I was feeling light-headed as Duo pressed a kiss firmly onto my lips. Oh how I wanted to give in to that kiss! Automatically, my free hand wrapped around him, then moved to position my hand over his hip. His thumb caressed over my lower rib, and I shuddered. Our legs intertwined, pinning me in place. I hadn't the strength or motivation to fight him.

And then he let up on me. "Duo...?"

I felt him pull away slightly, he blushed and sat up. "I... need to go to the bathroom. I'll be right back."

I closed my eyes and flung an arm over them, then I started talking to myself. "I must be crazy. I am falling in love with him more and more. A part of me wants him so badly. I can do this. I will show him that I can take him on."

I scrambled off the futon and looked in the mirror tacked outside the bathroom door. I poked at my shirt. "Not very sexy looking tonight, Yuy," I said in judgment of my reflection. "But hopefully he will just want it off anyway, so it doesn't matter."

I tip-toed back to the futon, turned out the light, and sat stiffly. I swallowed hard. I had just admitted to myself that I had decided to sleep with Duo, make love with Duo, and was terribly unsure of what to do next. "Well, I think I can count on hishelp."

Duo opened the bathroom door and crept down the hallway and back into the study, closing the door behind him, well trying to. It didn't fit. The door was warped and the jam eschew. It was dark, but I could detect Duo's mounded figure kneeling beside the futon.

"You're just where I left you," he said. He had a couple towels and a scattering of smaller items.

My heart was pounding to get out, my hands clammy and my mouth dry. I should have brushed my teeth, but remembered that I had brought nothing.

"'Ro?" He eased onto the futon, suddenly afraid to come into contact me. "Heero?"

He moved closer and I heard his breathing; it was slow, deep, and even. He nipped a portion of my lower lip. "Heh, heh..."

My eyes flew open in surprise, but I said nothing. He had placed a tube of lube and a condom in my hand.

"We'll take turns. You first on top, then me."

I started to shake my head. I had to explain how I could NOT push him face down on his futon and stick my cock up his ass. No. NO!

He was unbuttoning my shirt, staring into my eyes. His was off. I didn't even remember seeing him remove it. "'Ro, it's me, ya know."

"Duo." I could see him dimly now. Considerable light streamed in from the street lamp outside.

"Yeah, your Duo. Now, lean back and give me a hand with the pants. Jesus, you weigh a ton. Solid rock."

My wallet fell out and he tossed it on the growing discarded-clothes pile. My boxers disappeared with the pants and then he stood and removed his own. We had left our shoes and socks at the door.

"I got this idea," he said. "I think this'll work for us both."

I was willing to try, but he pushed me flat on my back and straddled me.

"Please don't ask me to--." I didn't know what I could do in that position. Perhaps he had changed his mind and would fuck me first.

I was lost in sensation as he sucked on my middle finger and stroked my erection to fullness. He unscrewed the lube and squeezed a generous blob onto my finger then pushed my hand in the general direction of his ass-cleft. "I think you can find the right spot." He grinned at my astonished expression.

"Uh, huh." I nudged at the tight bud with my fingertip and watched his face and it slipped part the tight ring. "It's so hot inside."

"Ninety-eight point six."

"Romantic," I growled with an eye roll. "How is that?" I added another finger and was amazed that he could stretch so quickly to accommodate me.

"It's you, 'Ro. It's good. I'm relaxed. No worries. Oh!" He moaned and sank onto my chest. "That's the p-place. Sooo good."

I took my time. Ty had never given me time. He took; never gave. My fingers loved Duo. Before I inserted a third finger, though, he rose onto his haunches.

"Oh no, I want the real thing now. Any more of what you were doing and I'll be done for."

This was the part I feared. I couldn't hurt him, and I knew it hurt. Ty hurt me over and over. "Please--?"

Duo didn't understand. He was coating my cock with a condom. He was wetting it with lube. Sliding up and down. "S-stop."

Or maybe he did.

"Hard to hold back, huh? I hear ya, babe."

He had a hold of my erection behind his back and rose up on his knees. "Let me do the guiding, 'kay?" he asked.

I could not have moved if he had ordered me too. I lay there ram-rod straight and watched as his cock dripped precum onto my belly and my cock disappeared up his ass.

"Hot!" I cried out. He was burning me, squeezing me—no, loving me.

I was deep inside him and he was moving very slowly. I was almost out, then completely embedded. The urge to pump into him was terrible. "So good. I need—"

"Gotcha, babe. I'll take care of you."

He started to bounce and grab his bobbing hard-on. I covered his hand with my own slippery one and he let go, letting me coat his shaft and love him. It was a bit awkward and our timing missed, but the feeling! He exploded over me and a little later I shot off into him. Into his ass. It was like nothing I had ever experienced before.

I was gasping when he collapsed into my arms. Breathless from the exertion. "Oh, god, Duo, that was perfect. That was…perfect. I can do this."

"Hey, that's good. Really good. Love ya, 'Ro. I knew we could work things out."

"You are so good for me, to me," I sniffed. I was sobbing. I was smiling. I was totally overwhelmed by a flood of emotions.

"I love you. You and only you. There is nothing, no one who will come between us. No Ty. No Solo. No past lovers. Just you and me. Am I right?"

"Y-yes. You and me."

Duo tossed the used rubber onto the empty pizza box, disturbing something because I heard it skitter away.

"We get tested for STD's, get cleared, and do away with the condoms, 'cause it's just you and me, babe, forever."

"Forever. Yes."

And then we kissed. I felt a mouse run across my leg.

"Us. You me and the mouse, Duo."

"Ah, shit. He back already?"

"He's got a pizza crust."

"He's got some crust, that's all I can say."

"I want to live with you," I told him.

"Here? Here with…me and little Mickey?"

"You named your dick?" I asked.

"The mouse! Mickey Mouse, get it? Forget it. You wanna move in with me here? What about a studio?"

"Not here. Someplace else."

"Oh. Like find a place for the two of us?"

"Yes."

"Oh. That's cool. Yeah, I'd like that. Sure. We can get started… soon?"

"After Trowa gets back and you can take off some time from work."

"Yeah, that would work. Wow. That'll be way cool."

I smiled and knew life would be good forever.

(o)

With one hand behind my head Heero leaned in and kissed me deeply. I wrapped my arms around his neck and fell backwards onto the futon. I loved the weight of him on top of me, grinding on me.

"God, 'Ro, I'm gonna explode!"

"No, you are not," he quipped. Giving me a sly smile.

He reached across a pillow, recovered the KY, opened it quickly with his mouth, and squeezed a generous amount into the palm of his hand. He sat up and smiled down at me. "You'll lube me?"

"Yeah, babe." I transferred a blob of KY to my fingers and reached around to his back end. "If you lean forward, I'll prep you good."

"That is… warming."

"This brand is. Feels good, huh?"

He gasped as I massaged his tight ring and poked in one finger. "Really, really good."

He kissed me quickly again and then stopped and looked down at me. "I am ready?"

"Didn't anybody ever do this right for you before? No, hon, you're so tight and I want you gaping open for me."

"I didn't take long enough for you, did I?" Poor guy sounded worried he'd hurt me.

"You didn't hear me complain, did you? And that's because I know how to relax my ass. Mind over matter."

He nodded, looking far more serious than he should considering what we were doing. I wondered about his sexual encounters with Ty. They must have been bad. No wonder he wasn't excited about playing the aggressor role. I really hated Ty more and more.

"Like what I'm doing? Stretching you." That got his attention on what my fingers were doing just as I found his prostrate hump and pressed.

"Fu-uck yeah!" he groaned and lowered his body onto mine for another kiss. I looked my lover in the eyes and he had this look that I can't even describe. "I want you inside of me," he said.

He rocked back and I lubed myself and rolled on a condom as he watched. "Okay, see how good your aim is. Tricky, huh?"

"I'm trying to get you to enter me," he explained as he pressed back. It wasn't working so good.

"Just relax and I'll hold my dick still and you go down a little bit. Maybe about an inch. You okay?"

He winced and stopped moving. "It was a really sharp pain at first."

"Okay, don't push down any harder." He didn't move in or out; just stayed in the same place.

"Now I am relaxed; the pain is gone. Oh, that's good."

I raised my hips the little I could, pushing up and in. I let out a few loud moans telling him how hot he was, how fuckably sensational he was, and other sappy stuff I don't remember. He drew down his eyebrows a little bit, and I felt him push down, his hot insides sucking me up.

"Yeah, babe." I shot out one hand above my head to grip the edge of the futon, squeezing until my knuckles were white. My other hand was on his cock, distracting him from any pain by rubbing the sensitive tip.

"Fuck." He moaned as he lowered himself all the way.

I released my grip on the edge of the bed so I could hold him tightly at the hip, my nails digging into him.

"Go for it, stud," I urged him. "You'll figure out how to hit that spot."

He moved faster and harder. His whole body shivered as if with a chill and he groaned in a rush of pleasure. I moaned out loudly as he did when his insides cramped and squeezed my cock. His paced quickened, letting out short quick moans. I grasped his body while I fucked him back. He looked down at me with a frown and his mouth open, but I couldn't hear him breathe. I gave some short hard thrusts that made the futon shake against the wall, and he came, gushing ropes across my chest. I shot like crazy inside, screaming his name.

He collapsed on top of me and the both of us were panting heavily. He buried his face down in the crook of my neck, kissing and biting my neck until I pushed him away, laughing. With the last of my strength, I disposed of the sticky condom as I had the previous one. We were both as sweaty and out of breath hardcore, but he managed to gather enough energy to lift his head kiss me gently, before collapsing back down over my shoulder.

Music was just coming though the gap in the window sash. A neighbor was practicing his sax. Just as first tune ended and before changing to another song, Heero said in a quiet voice, "I love you."

"Me…too," I managed to say before falling asleep.

(o)

With Trowa out of town, I knew Duo had to be at work early, so I picked a night I knew he'd want to tuck in before ten o'clock to conduct my search. I believed that all the murders he had looked into tied Voyate Pharmaceutical Research Laboratory to OZ Asylum and Penitentiary. I also suspected that someone at Voyate and Lady Une were in cahoots with the head of OZ, Treize Khushrenada, whether willfully or not.

I also felt that the accidental explosion, as police called it, which had nearly taken Trowa's life had been purposeful. To what purpose, I could only guess. Had the intention been to scare Voyate into stopping or continuing their testing? The explosion might even been planned kill someone other than Trowa; was he the real target? What if he was? Why? What kind of threat was Trowa, a graduate chem. major to OZ?

I wanted answers, which was why I was about to break into the Une's home that night. With practiced ease, I had jimmied the back sliding door off its glider-frame, and had just placed the heavy door to the side, when a voice from the shadows behind me asked, "What are you doing here, Yuy?"

"Damn!" Had the door been lighter, I might have jumped a foot, as it was, the weight grounded me. I recognized the voice, but it took me a second or two to attach a face to it and to control my own voice. "I could ask you the same, couldn't I, Chang?"

"You could, but I asked first."

"Shouldn't you be investigating the Voyate murders?"

"Not all night. How about you? I understand you have a play and an art show opening to be preparing for."

"All under control. Now, leave."

"Not until you tell me what you are doing lurking about Lady Une's house at midnight. Tell me, or I'll write you up for suspicious behavior," Wufei threatened.

"I am collecting something for Trowa." This was close to the truth.

"Oh? Why doesn't he just call her and get it himself?"

"He wants to avoid the woman."

"He's not even in Sanc, currently. What's really up, Yuy."

"I guess you haven't been paying close attention lately. I blame her for Trowa's accident and prefer to avoid her if possible. However, she is using drugs created by Voyate and being tested on the inmates of OZ, I want to know. I want another laboratory to check out what I find."

"And that's where you come in, you figure? Breaking and entry?"

I pulled out my set of keys and tried one. It didn't fit into the disabled door, but it was a symbolic act. "It's open now."

Reading Chang was like reading a carved stone. But then he smiled a sly smile. "As an officer of the law, I must stop you; however, as a Preventers agent, I may request your assistance to collect some limited evidence."

"How nice. And your boss permits you to come and go as you like… Let's get this over with..."

I wanted to go in first and alone. He was equally determined to lead. We had a standoff.

"She is not in, but others are."

"Others?"

Wufei narrowed his eyes and glared as if he could better read my mind that way. "Don't tell me you didn't know she had a family?"

"I won't."

"I will go first, then. I know where the bedrooms and bathrooms are. I've been in this house before. Have you?"

I hadn't been past the front yard. "All right. First, we check out the bathrooms."

"Upstairs, then," Chang said, as he slipped past the gaping doorway.

We crept into the back room, past the kitchen, and slowly up the stairs to the first landing. There, we paused to listen for movement.

"I hear someone in a room up ahead. It is early for everyone to be asleep, you know," Chang whispered.

We stood there in the dark for two minutes, then, convinced that no one was coming our way, we continued to the top of the stairway. Chang pointed to a door on the left and mouthed, "Husband."

Next to that room was a bathroom. I didn't hesitate. I extracted an evidence bag from my pocket, and entered the room. Around the sink were two bottles. What I wanted were samples from Voyate labs, different ones if possible for my label testing. Inside the medicine cabinet I found dozens of non-standard containers.

_Could these be experimental drugs?_

Several were duplicates, so I took those. Just as I was about to leave, I noticed the trash can. More empty bottles with the distinguishing 'ZP' watermark. I added those to my collection, and started to leave.

Chang, standing guard outside the bathroom door, pushed me back inside, and then slipped in and locked the door. He held a finger to his lips, "Sh."

They could hear a door open at the far end of the hall, then the footsteps of someone approaching the bathroom. If we were caught, we were sunk. I did not think Chang's agent status would protect him much. There was a gentle rap on the door. "Are you all right?"

_Silence wouldn't do, but what was there to say?_

"Bobby?" Une's husband sounded worried.

Wufei flushed the toilet and turned on the water at the sink to further mask his voice, then pitched his voice higher to mimic a 10 year-old boy. "M'Okay."

"All right, son, sorry. Just checking."

Footfalls softly stepped down the hall, a door opened then closed with a 'click,' then silence returned. My muscles ached with tension as I held an uncomfortable position– I was determined not to touch Chang's body as it pressed closer in an effort put as much space between himself and the door. His warm body movements were arousing. I could sense Chang's similar discomfort with the close confines. I bent slightly, catching a faint whiff of his after shave, citrus-y and clean-smelling. I couldn't remember when I had last made love Duo—and then I could, and it had been wonderful. It had been far too long, I decided, if a straight man like Chang could excite me.

"I don't hear anything," I whispered. "Go, now."

Chang agreed, nodded, and carefully turned the doorknob, cracking open the door slightly, but his hand stopped it at a crack. "Careful."

I peered over his shoulder, but could see nothing moving on the other side. "Clear."

Chang stole past the couple's bedroom door, then onward to the stairs. I followed him down and through the back room, until we finally darted out the back door. There I stopped to lift and jiggle the door back into its slot. I pushed until it slid into place and the catch engaged. Chang watched as I re-engaged the security system, the questions forming in his mind like popcorn. He looked like he might burst.

"How--?"

"Later," I whispered. I gave it one more twist and the poor lock caught and the security light blinked "on". "All secure. Go."

Chang dashed around to the front sidewalk, down the street, and around the block to where Chang had parked his car. I was on his heels, but walking on to catch the bus. When he reached his car he turned around.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked me.

"To the palace. Zechs will have these analyzed overnight."

"Get in. We will do this as a Preventers case."

* * *

End Chapter 21

TBC in Chapter 22 -- November Storms part 2


	22. November Storms, Part 2

**Greeting Cards**

This is an on-going story arc, based on Heero's greeting cards, and updated monthly, at least.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

**Warnings:** AU, male/male pairings, language, some embalming and autopsies topics covered.

**Chapter 22 --**

**November Storms, Part 2**

* * *

I do greeting cards. I once considered myself a poet even, but it was all in my mind so now I do my own copy and illustrations to cheer others. Sometimes I create beautiful art and farm out the copy. When I first started out, I was cheated by the printer and robbed by the distributor. My products are distributed worldwide now, and pay just enough to make me ineligible for food stamps.

What has made my name somewhat recognizable and added dollars to my savings account, is my special line of hand-painted, signature cards, like the ones I give Duo. In my studio, my favorite cards are framed and mounted on the walls. Correction: were on the walls. Relena has taken them down, collected others from Duo and who knows where else, framed them, and is preparing to display my art in a prestigious gallery in downtown Sanc. I should be grateful she is doing it for me. I should get orders for art, some commissions for paintings, bigger than the 3x5 dimensions that limit most of what I have produced.

I hung my favorite pieces within view to inspire me. So now when I look up from the table where I work, I see the earlier emanations of my genius. "Kiss me again—I'll turn the other cheek." "We'll have to stop meeting like this—roll over." "Love is—never having to say, 'How much?'"

In fact, they inspired me again. I no sooner sat down at my work table than I grabbed pencil and paper and wrote. "Get well soon—my doctor says you have it, too." That was two in one day, when I wrote the one for Duo. By God, getting laid really did help.

Oh, being intimate with Duo did more for me than just that. He was unbelievably whole and real and capable. I could tell him anything. I didn't, but I could. Almost. Could I tell him I'd rather not have a repeat performance of the other night? Probably not. He seemed to thoroughly enjoy the experience. Was that just one more way I was weird? A queer who didn't crave anal sex with his lover? It got me off. My body reacted, but my heart just wasn't into it. I could never tell him that.

Ty had fucked me. Duo loved me. But what I wanted were his hands on me, Duo's mouth, his tongue, his lips, anywhere, everywhere loving me like no one had before. That was perfection.

And I did feel deeply for Duo. I'd killed before and was nearly immune for the guilt. He had killed an evil thing. What was that creep's name? Sidney, that's right, one of Ty's worst. I think he gave Ty ideas as to how to torture me. A gutting was far too tame a death for him. I'd have to remember to tell Duo that, if I didn't throw up thinking about Ty and the rest of the evil near-dead, stalkers of the night who prey on the young and weak in their sleep.

Duo had not believed that Zechs was a vampire when we talked about it, and was instrumental in my coming around to his point of view. It was just so much easier to structure the universe so that the evil ones were in another world, and not a part of mine. I know my categorization tactics meant I was odd, but rationalizing the evil I saw and experienced that way kept me mentally balanced. I had o-fuda to stave off the attacks of the undead; how could I defeat the Ty Keel's of the world?

Dreary thinking was getting me nowhere on the card in my hand. I surmised that if I had to create designer greeting cards and break into crypts looking for buried bodies, I was allowed a few quirks. Maybe a lot of them.

Now, if only I could think of what to say for Duo's special card, I would be done for the day. I closed my eyes and pictured him coming up to me and asking, "What can I do to make you happy, 'Ro?" And then the words came to me, just like that.

I jotted them down and looked for the right pen to inscribe the card, when my phone buzzed. It was Zechs.

"Have you any living blood relatives and do you know if Maxwell does?"

"No, and I really doubt he does either. He's never mentioned any family nor had any visitors. Why?"

"I'd like to have more tissue or blood samples for DNA comparisons."

"I don't understand the point, Zechs. What is the difference between DNA analysis on hair and on blood, or in our cases, semen?"

"Nuclear DNA comes from blood and tissue. Mitochondrial DNA is collected from hair and bone, and doesn't tattle on its owner's gender. Nuclear DNA testing is the preferred method for identification purposes. It's basically the same as the analysis carried out for paternity testing, actually. Your DNA profile, or that of the questionable remains, is compared with the profiles of known relatives, which is why they like to contact relatives to provide a small blood samples for comparison. As in testing a mother and father to determine whether you really are a child of those parents. If there is a match between the DNA profile of the you with the deceased or those of your 'real' the parents then it is likely that an identification can be made. If you had brothers and sisters, they could also be compared."

"So, why were we collecting hair at Une's home, then, if it's not very useful?"

"It's useful, just not the best. It's our back up in case my plans don't work out." I could hear Zechs sigh. "I didn't know about the DNA testing at the labs, but it will be backup for that, too. Can't be too careful or have too much information."

"You are certainly not giving me too much information that I understand."

"I don't want to stir up an unnecessary amount of trouble if I'm totally wrong here, that's all. I will tell-all, everything, by the end of the week. Trowa Barton should be returned from his investigations by that time. I think we will all have to have a meeting."

I assumed all meant Duo and me, Trowa and Zechs, but who else I didn't know, or ask about. I wanted to finish my card for Duo. He and I had a dinner reservation in a couple of days and I wanted it ready for then.

"All right. Bye."

"Good night, Yuy."

(o)

Yuy and Maxwell had gathered a tremendous quantity of data from the OZ laboratories, and I had yet to examine much of it. Using Maxwell's computers was preferable to the ones at the palace because it masked what I was doing from Treize Khushrenada and the eyes of his spies. As a result, I found myself spending more and more time at the mortuary.

Oddly enough, I enjoyed the camaraderie of Duo's workspace, a residual fancy from my years of service in the Sanc military and later as a subordinate of Treize. In any case, I found it increasingly easy to rise early and meet the staff at the mortuary first thing in the morning. Today I actually looked forward to it and met them at opening time.

The phone was ringing as Duo unlocked the back door to the morgue. He ran to catch it on its last ring, while the rest of us filed in and prepared for the day. Funny man. Expressive as his almost-partner, Trowa Barton, was impassive. Sound and rational as his lover, Heero Yuy, was inventive and unstable. All-in-all, Maxwell chose his friends well as counterbalance his emotional, driving personality.

"Maxwell Morgue and Funeral home. How can I help you? Oh, sure. Right now? Okay, I'll put our driver on the line for directions. Hold a second, please." He cupped a hand over the mouth piece and shouted to me, which was totally unnecessary because I was on my way to his side, "Zechs, take this before you change! Andres, hold on, you'll be going out with him."

I wasn't thrilled to have a 'pick up' to do. I'd been looking forward to sitting around observing the new employees, listening in, and conducting my own research on the sly, and some of it in the open. However, it was my job and I was accustomed to receiving orders, so I took the call in good humor.

"Thank you. Yes, I know the location. Some remote Voyate property. I shall be there presently."

I hung up the phone, thinking that this had to be a related murder, and the perpetrators were getting sloppier as time went on. I was certain we would have all the evidence required to tie Voyate to OZ and bring vengeance upon those responsible for the atrocities done and to be done.

"Not again," Duo groaned. "I wish I never heard of that place."

"You are not alone," I said from the desk where I was checking on a few lab results. Not complete, drat. "I've prepared slides of the label fibers for analysis. You and I can look them over when I get back."

"Gotcha," Duo said without looking up.

He flipped over the chart of work to do with a sigh. He was a driver, like me, which is why I had come to admire him. He also chose to wear his hair long as I did, a sign of a man with good taste.

"A simple embalming, that's all. If you help me get this one out of the way fast, DeeVee (Endive), we'll be able to do a full autopsy on the body they're picking up when it comes in. Coming from Voyate means it may be connected to the other murders. The police won't want anyone else to do it." Sharp man.

"Right, I'll go change." Endive and he entered the changing room to don their coveralls, masks, and slip into gloves, while Andres and I put on disposable protective clothing, bundled up gloves, and nabbed the keys to the van on our way out.

I drove hell-bent on getting to the designated pickup location while there was a break in the rain. I had decided that the job would be harder in the short days of winter, the sun angle low to the horizon, and the days often clouded and gloomy. At least people with normal hours slept through the deepest dark of winter nights.

Andres was stuck in close quarters with me.

"That was some game on TV last night, wasn't it?" Andres asked. "Sports is a safe topic, right? My grandfather always warned me against discussing personal problems, politics, or religion at work."

Or with a famous person like me, Zechs Merquise. "I was out."

"Well, the coach thought the refereeing was bad, but I think it was just a made-up rationalization for a bad game. The quarterback just didn't have any energy, not that it mattered. A loss is a loss."

Andres must have decided that I wasn't going to say more, and gave up trying to make small-talk with me for several minutes.

"Zechs, I see flashing lights over there."

"It appears to be our destination."

Andres checked his watch, making a mental note of the time.

He jumped when I spoke next. "Well, well, well. Look who is here."

Andres seemed relieved by the interruption and smiled nervously. "Who?"

"I know these detectives," I told him.

We were greeted by the now-familiar tall, blonde Detective Trant and short, dark Inspector Acht, who led us to the naked body of a young woman.

"Looks like she was strangled with her own blouse," Detective Trant commented as the silent Inspector Acht took crime-scene photos.

"She hasn't been dead long," Detective Trant noted. He was trying to catch my eye and flirt. Damn, how I detested the man for that. "Her body's still warm and rigor mortis hasn't set in. We took the temperature already."

"I'll make a note of that." I turned to Andres. "Bag it first, then load the body onto the stretcher…" I began, pausing when the boy's face blanched white. "What's the matter?"

"I recognize her; the face, that is." Andres' face flushed when he said that, as suddenly as it drained earlier.

"You should sit down before you fall down," I warned him.

"Y-yeah." Andres sank heavily onto the stretcher.

Detective Trant paused in his note-taking. "You can identify the body?"

"When I was working at the hospital I'd see her. Then she quit and went to work in the research labs here at Voyate. I think she was the assistant to a lead chemist by the name of Dr. Tsubarov, and her name was... Dr. Sylvia Noventa."

"Well, let's get Dr. Sylvia Noventa back to the morgue, and see if we can't figure out who killed and left her here," I said.

"Oh…yes, of course." Andres stood and together he and I rustled the lady into the body bag and from there onto the cot.

Inspector Acht, camera dangling from his neck, had been listening politely and interrupted now. "We'll need DNA, fingerprints, hair, anything to ID the assailant, when we catch him."

"Of course." Full service crime investigation team—that's what the funeral home was becoming. "You have a clue who that might be?"

"We'll start by locating Dr. Tsubarov, I think," Detective Trant replied. He stepped within arm's reach of me and lowered his voice. "Haven't seen you for a while."

"No. Why, was there a related case? Excuse me." I aided the boy move the laden cot, which seemed determined to roll into the tall grass and remain stuck.

"Oh, no." Detective Trant stepped back to allow Andres space to pass with the cot. The persistent cop tried again. "You seem busy. But I was hoping… Perhaps I'll call you at a later time?"

"If you feel it's necessary. Otherwise, someone at the mortuary will let you know what we find as soon as the data is available. Good night, gentlemen." And that, I hoped, wasn't too subtle a way to tell him get lost.

Back in the van, Andres thought he could needle me. "You know he was trying to see if you'd go out with him, right? The guy's interested, so if you're not, just tell him, okay? It's hard enough to ask another guy out, much less figure out confusing signals. Um, I'm bi, so I know both sides of the game."

I rammed the gear shift into position, my annoyance obvious. "I'm not signaling anybody anything. I have a girlfriend. I am not interested in having a boyfriend, and I'm just trying to do a job here, all right? Now, mind your own business!"

"Okay, okay!" Andres said, clamping up, nodding, and looking straight ahead.

The mood on the ride back was stretched even tauter than the ride over.

While Andres and Endive wrestled the new body onto a morgue table, I called Duo over to the desk. "I have the new slides prepared for you to look at. Tell me what you see."

Without touching the adjustments, Duo peered through the eye piece. "Okay..."

"Now, look at this one."

"It's the same fiber-type. Are these off the same label then?"

"Not quite. The first came off a bottle from OZ, while the second was collected from a bottle in Lady Une's bathroom."

"Lady Une's--? How did you get that?"

"Heero didn't mention how he ran into Chang the other night?"

"Yeah, but we got…um…distracted and he never finished telling me."

I smiled. _Distracted?_ I smiled more and shook my head. Bad for Yuy to keep secrets. I quickly explained about the break in. Before Duo could question me further, I continued, "What is important is that Lady Une has been taking the same stuff some of those bodies were subjected to. It's too complex for me to analyze, but I sent the trace powder from her bottle to another lab. I have a dozen or more labels with the same fibers you were telling me about, which mark them as from Voyate's lab, too. My guess is that the bottles contained chemical variations of one another. I swabbed out the residues, and sent those in for lab work with the others."

"But what does it mean?" Duo said as much to himself as to me.

"I can't say for sure, because I don't know, but we can make some educated guesses. Lady Une has been aware that Voyate was secretly creating drugs that were not part of Voyate's average offerings. Somehow, those drugs made their way to the OZ laboratories, where testing has been done on subjects from the penitentiary and the asylum. I have only had time to trace a couple of the codes found on bottles in Lady Une's cabinet to their corresponding match in the records on OZ Island."

"But you found matches? That's incredible, Zechs." Duo was impressed with my skills. "You ought to be a spy or something." He compared both slides again and stood up. "So you think Lady Une has been taking some experimental drug they designed."

"Not just _some _drug. What was it Heero called it? The Fountain of Youth. They want to live forever, or at least stop aging, and, you must admit, Lady Une is very young-looking. But there's something more to it, because among the subjects were youths, too. One compound contained steroids and growth stimulants, plus unrecognizable other chemicals; at least, so far."

"How do you think she found out about it? They wouldn't have shared that kind of information with anyone in Preventers or a hospital official?"

"I've been wondering about that, too." I didn't have her role figured out. I didn't want to think she was playing both side. "She is undercover and because of her role in the hospital-- I don't know. Perhaps they needed more test subjects, and she became involved."

"Or maybe someone in OZ made a mistake and gave it to the wrong person, which led Une to Voyate? I don't know, but I wanna to find out. And Heero thinks Trowa's accident was linked to all this, planned or accidental."

"Oh, it was no accident; at least, I'm certain he will make that discovery."

"Okay, then, while you're answering questions, where does the disinterment that you and Heero mentioned come in? You think we should check some of the bodies on OZ Island to prove that the drug testing was the cause?"

"Well, yes, in a way..." I paused while deciding what to say.

"I have a bad feeling that this has something to do with those DNA samples we gave you."

"Oh, don't feel bad about that. The question is: do you want to be part of the tomb raiding?"

"Count me in," Duo said.

"Okay, that's a start, but we'll need more help."

"You know Heero and Trowa will do it and that means Quatre. I doubt we'll be able to keep this from Wufei, which means Hilde…"

"That's enough help."

(o)

I was home, doing late-night laundry, microwaving a tub of noodles for a dinner-esque meal, when, yes, the phone rang. It was Hilde, so I picked up on ring number two.

"Howdy do?!"

"Doing fine, chum, and you?"

"The same, little buddy. What'sup?"

"Oh, Wuffy's out on call tonight and I'm home. Bored."

"How can you be bored? I have housework. Wanna come over and scrub floors?"

"Your floors? Never. I don't even want to drive through your neighborhood at night. No, I'm just bored. I got my own chores I'm not doing. Waittaminute. You're cleaning? Again? That's like three weeks in a row I've called and you're cleaning or something domestic."

"If I want Heero as company, I have to keep the place hospitable to a higher life form."

"If you call him higher… I suppose higher than a bug. So, he's been over, as in over NIGHT?"

"Yeah."

"Oooh."

"I gotta new futon."

"futon fusion? The place Wuffy told you about, I take it?"

"Yeah." She seemed a bit down. "Business okay?"

"Yeah, selling clothes fine."

"You're not out and about. Everything cool with you and 'Wuffy'?"

"Uh, huh. He's wonderful. I just miss him when he's not around. Don't you miss Hee-ro?"

Did I? I sure enjoyed life more with him around, but I didn't think about him All the time. I wasn't unhappy without him, but that was because I knew he was a phone call away. A heartbeat away. He made me a better man and made be feel complete, but I didn't miss him to distraction.

"I've got to much to do to think about to dwell on stuff like that. We got reservations at Tully's."

"Tully's?! no kidding!"

"Fireside seating no less."

"Oak wainscoting hundreds of years old, that soda fountain, the new saloon—that place is a five-star history museum. How'd you get reservations?"

"Relena got them for Heero in trade for his cooperation on a project of hers."

"That art show, I'll bet. Oh, I have to get my tickets from Quatre for that play of yours. I keep forgetting to pick them up. I'd forget my head if it wasn't screwed on these days."

"It isn't, by the way, and Quat's been gone all week so you didn't miss nothing. He will deliver the tickets to you. I don't think there even are tickets yet. Maybe there will never be."

"Now you're sounding goofy, so I'm gonna go. Clean my bathroom. There, feel better? You got me cleaning now. Good gravycakes, Duo, we used to go out dancing and now we're cleaning house for amusement."

"And sex, don't forget that."

"Never. Bye, sweetie."

"Nighty, night, love."

(o)

It was just me, Deevee, and 'Dres the next day. Zechs had some other business to do pressuring poor lab techs someplace to make 24-hour tests take 12, or something equally frustrating and futile. I noticed Andres scratching his legs the next day. He crossed his ankles and rubbed them together, a self-destructive way to curb the itching. The kid was in a hurry to meet a friend for lunch, so he rushed out before I could ask him about the itching. I mentioned it to DeeVee (Endive,) who had dropped her last boyfriend over the weekend and I think was working her way into the girlfriend role in Andres' crowded life. "Think Dres has all his cats on flea medication?"

"Of course, why?"

"Oh, his leg's covered with bug bites."

She thought that over. "And you don't and I don't, and he's been with one of us all the time here."

Maybe you've been with him all the time, but not me. "He and Zechs did a pick up the other day."

"Oh, yeah. They were outside, too. I remember them mentioning getting grass caught in the gurney wheels."

"I'll call Zechs. It would be interesting if both he and 'Dres got bitten by the same bugs at that site." I looked away, not wanting to see her face studying mine for more information on the guy's condition. "Zechs said he wouldn't be in. Running around labs today. Hope he's got his cell on."

"I remember that body they picked up. I didn't notice bite marks on her skin."

Endive was actually thinking about the case! Would wonders never cease?

Her eye's flashed. "I get where you're heading with this. A dead body wouldn't attract blood-sucking insects, so if the body was dropped there, or was killed soon after arriving there, then you wouldn't expect to see bites. But..."

"But...the murderer might have bites, too."

"Exactly!"

"All right. I'm gonna call Zechs. I'll let you know what I find out."

"I'm gonna call my doctor," Endive said. With a flick of her wrist her cell phone was ready to go.

Zechs' line was busy.

The door slammed open. "Duo? You know anything about rashes?" Andres asked, leaning over to really scratch at his legs as he continued to hobble inside.

"Um, you keep doing that and you'll start bleeding," Endive remarked. She turned back to her phone. "Okay, thanks that's all I needed. Bye."

"Doing what?" Andres asked. He caught himself scratching again behind his knee. "I don't know what it is, but I have these itches."

"Let me see." I tried to be no-nonsense about it.

"Okay," Endive said. She pushed in to look, too. "My doctor told me that there were lots of bugs still active because we haven't had a frost yet. And then was got those recent rains. They were treating all kinds of rashes and bites this week."

Andres shyly rolled up a pant leg to expose an ankle. "There's a spot down there. It stings."

He had already rubbed it raw. "Well, looks to me like a bug bite, and a bad one," she offered. She felt for lumps.

"That tickles." Great the boy was flirting back.

"Have you been out hiking in the grass?"

"No, not exactly. Oh, yeah, the other day. Zechs and I had a body to pick up. It was under trees in tall grass."

"So, Zechs might have bites, too." Endive straightened up and looked at me. "Did you get him? This is a chigger bite and it should be treated so infection doesn't set in."

"I'll try again."

He picked up on the third ring. "It's about 'Dres… Oh yes, and itchy as hell. He's got bites on his legs… Chiggers, yeah, that's what DeeVee said. Yeah, that one, and I am sending him out to get them treated."

"Hold on!" My voice carried all the way through the mortuary, I'm sure. "Real common right now." I explained what I thought that meant to the investigation. "I need directions to the field where you did that pickup. Okay. Got it. I'll give our favorite crime scene investigators a call-- you know, Detective Trant and Inspector Acht-- and see if they can meet us out at the crime scene. I'll call you when I learn more." I hung up, left 'Dres to get his bites taken care of, and dialed Detective Trant.

"I want to go with you," 'Dres said. "I'll get the first aid kit and cover the bites…and I promise to see a doctor afterwards."

"Well…"

"Me, too!" Endive chimed in. She wanted to be a part of the action for a change. My work team was coming together.

"If I get the cops okay--" The call to the detectives came through at that moment. I explained the situation and listened carefully to what they had in mind. "Yeah, sounds like a plan. How about some helpers? Gotcha. See you in half an hour then."

"Hey, guess what? Both Detectives Detective Trant and Inspector Acht have chigger bites, too. We're going to have to look for chiggers over a huge space, so it's fine to bring as many helpers as possible."

I ended up driving Andres and Endive out to Voyate Laboratories field research parking lot. Detective Trant and Inspector Acht were already on the scene with Zechs, who was combing the grass for specimens. He stood up when we arrived and smiled with a determined effort.

Detective Trant introduced Zechs as if we didn't know him already. "This is Dr. Merquise, a well-known entomologist. We are looking for chiggers. If you want to help, listen to his instructions, otherwise, leave."

Zechs rolled his eyes with barely leased in annoyance. "Everyone stay."

Inspector Acht had laid out a grid of strings covering one hundred and fifty square feet around the area where the body had been found. He sketched a rough outline in his notebook, and numbered each section in the grid. "Okay, I'm assigning each person a spot inside a grid space to search for bugs. Merquise, number one..."

"I've already begun."

He continued down his list. I was number two, funny that. Endive was number four next to Andres, number three. When everyone had their designation, they all listened while Zechs demonstrated how to identify and collect specimens.

"Any questions, just yell." Detective Trant waved us all to work.

After an hour of testing in each designated place, we broke to compare results. The only place we found chiggers in was a narrow strip near a pine tree under which the woman had been found. I had been searching there and found several, and several more found me, sad to say.

"Lucky me."

"Pick them off this way." And Zechs demonstrated.

"So, can we connect the dead woman's boss from the labs to the scene, too?" I asked. "What was that guy's name?"

"Dr. Tsubarov," Andres supplied, "but that was just what I remembered. She may be working for someone else now."

"We have investigators checking on that. Hold on, incoming call." Inspector Acht stepped aside and listened to his call in private.

Detective Trant explained, "We questioned Dr. Tsubarov, but he claimed that the last time he'd seen the woman was at work, then he drove straight home. He was very clear about not being outside, and now we have evidence proving that the chiggers cannot be found on the parking lot– only under the tree where the body was found."

"So, you want to find out if he has any bites like you guys, right? Isn't it possible that he may not have been bitten, but still have been here?" I asked.

"It's possible, if he wasn't here long. When Endive called us earlier, we sent a couple officers and a medical technician to Dr. Tsubarov's office. That is who Detective Trant is speaking to."

"Thank you," Detective Trant was saying as he ended the call. He joined our group on the pavement, where we were checking one another's clothes for unwanted bugs. "Well, sure enough, Dr. Tsubarov has chigger bites. A doctor has examined his bite marks and confirmed that they are similar to the ones that the rest of us have. That possibly places him at the crime scene at some point, which doesn't correlate with his testimony. He is now our primary murder suspect, thanks to your lead."

"We aim to please. No problem."

"Wow!" Endive cried out excitedly. "If the suspect is found guilty, then I'll bet that makes it the first time chigger bites ever convicted a man for first-degree murder!"

Everyone chuckled, pleased to have something to laugh about for a change. I wondered why the good doctor murdered his assistant, and was about to begin a discussion of my ideas on the subject when my cell phone timer went off. I'd never used it before, but Heero insisted I try it tonight so I wouldn't miss our dinner reservation. Good thing!

I couldn't wait to meet up with Heero and tell him about our discovery and crime solving success. I drove the mortuary's car back to the shop, with a brief stop at the clinic to drop off Dres, and parked. I checked the shop messages—none-- and closed up. I'd expected to hear from Trowa. He and Quatre were due back, and thought about giving him a call, but whatever news they would have could wait. I had a dinner date with my man at a rather nice restaurant.

I jogged a few blocks and walked the remainder, smoothed my hair in the window, then went on in. I spotted my 'Ro immediately. He looked real good sitting by the fire in his brown corduroy jacket and blue shirt, nursing a glass of water. "That's where you can set me," I told the waiter.

"You're about the fourth person to ask me that."

"And he's _still _waiting for me," I grinned and joined Heero on my own. "Hi, babe. Sorry I'm late, the bus…"

"I'm early. No problem."

Our eyes met over the menus and I knew it was true. We were here together and the past was safely in the past. Well, part of it. I told him about the chiggers and how we found the killer.

"You guys are getting clever. I hope Preventers doesn't try and recruit you."

"No chance of that. So, how's the art business? Oh, I thought up an idea for a Christmas card. Wanna hear? You can say no."

He always wanted to hear. "I want to hear."

"Christmas comes but once a year—I'm glad _you_ can do better." I grinned and he did too.

"I'll use it, unless you mind?"

"Heh, heh… go ahead. You can pay me, uh, later, if you get my drift?"

He did if the flush from his neck to his crown was any indication. He told me about Relena's progress putting on his art show. "As long as she stays away and refrains from pestering me, it is all right—I guess."

"If she starts to bug ya, let me know. I'll set her straight."

He gave me a quizzical look that melted into a smirk. "Sure you will."

Always funning around, my 'Ro. The waiter reappeared and we ordered, all the while enjoying the ambience far away from our work places.

"Relena can be a force for good and evil," I said. "Like how she roped us all into that play because her brother told Dorothy we were all actors and not really doing a séance and she was crazy nuts superstitious about things like that."

"Quatre reads emotions. There was no séance," 'Ro reminded me.

"Yeah, well, tell that to the princess 'keeper of the peace' you live with. Ah… share an abode with."

"Rent a room from."

"For free."

"Low rent."

"Uh, huh." I sipped at my water and his defensive frown smoothed out.

"Here." He slid a card across the smooth linen tablecloth.

"My card!" I always was surprised and delighted when he remembered. We were taking it pretty slow, being seen in public together. We still didn't do anything overt. I guess it would take awhile getting over my relationship with Solo and how poorly he coped with being gay, how we had to hide it all.

The cover was a gorgeous table laden with sumptuous dishes in copious quantities. Across the top he'd written "I am ever thankful for this bountiful feast."

Inside, the script continued, "And you." And then his special note to me:

"**Adore me, treasure me, never let me go."**

"God, 'Ro, I'd be pretty damned stupid if I ever let you go."

"Love you," he whispered.

"Backatcher, babe."

I don't know if he even could hear what I said. I was overcome with this upwelling of sheer good feelings. He whispered because it was romantic, but I did so because I didn't have the strength to talk.

Thanksgiving wishes to you all!

End Chapter 22

TBC in Chapter 23 -- December Wonder, Part 1


	23. December Wonder, Part 1

**Greeting Cards**

This is an on-going story arc, based on Heero's greeting cards, and updated monthly, at least.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

**Warnings:** AU, male/male pairings, language, some embalming and autopsies topics covered.

A/N: Thanks go to WaterLily for the wonderful ideas and corrections.

**Chapter 23 --**

**December Wonder, Part 1**

-Reign of Zombies- from Hilde's Perspective

* * *

I began to wonder if I hadn't come to the wrong play after all. It was only five minutes into the first act and I couldn't imagine a man of Zechs' standing demeaning himself to participate in such a debacle. Duo, whom I hadn't yet seen on stage, might do something unexpected for the fun of it, but Zechs Merquise?

My boyfriend, Wufei, sat to my right, his expression alternating from cross to stultified. On my left were two friends from my hospital volunteering, Amy and Sue, and at the far end sat Fay from my shop. Over a couple rows and up I noticed Sally Po sitting beside her date, who I didn't know. From the confused expressions everyone wore, I could tell the entire audience was stunned.

"So what's wrong with that blowhard?" Wufei asked in a low voice while gesturing toward the stage.

"Nothing. He's fine. Just another romance-novel love-interest for the idiot heroine to spurn for no apparent reason. Just wait, some dark and evil guy will show up for her to fall for."

"Nonsense."

Wufei meant the show and not the content of my wisdom, I knew. He was trying, pretending to be interested, and I appreciated his effort to be supportive of our friends, who had better show up on stage soon, God damnit. _When would they appear?_ I focused my ever-wandering attention back to the poor lead girl's sad tale of unmatched passion a moment longer, and then I felt him jiggle my elbow.

"Hilde?"

"What?" I wasn't angry at him for his repeated interruptions; in fact, I was happy for the distraction.

"Aren't your friends supposed to be in this? They weren't any of those losers, were they?"

"No, you haven't missed OUR friends—and don't pretend you wouldn't recognize them either. They're zombies, wherever _they_ fit into this stupid play."

Amy giggled. "Oh Hilde, here comes Mr. Tall, Blonde, and Handsomely Mysterious. How long do you suppose we have to wait until we see Miss Charlotte swoon at his feet?"

I did wish Amy would drop the pretentious "Miss" and "Mr." appellations, but I knew complaining about it would just give her the attention she wanted, so I let it pass. "About five minutes… eh... nope; there she goes!" I shouted. The people seated around me didn't even bother telling me to be quiet. My conversation was far more compelling than the dialogue on stage.

"_Oh, Blaise, what a breath of fresh air you are to this town!"_

"_Why, Charlotte, how kind of you to say; and to think, you hardly know me."_

"_I feel like I've known you all my life."_

"_You are as intelligent as you are beautiful."_

"What a load of crap," I grimaced. "Ewww, how can she stand looking up at that moustache? I hope Zechs never, ever tries to go around sporting one of those revolting things for real."

"What makes you think the guy's evil?" Wufei asked.

"The bad guys always have moustaches," I explained to my agent-boyfriend, though, he was as good a profiler as marksman as there was, and _knew._

"That's not true!" Amy protested. "My daddy has one and so does Miss Sue's dad, and you know that Miss Hilde! Oh, you were just kidding me, weren't you?"

"Yeah, I was. Oh, don't look now, but Mr. Tall and Blonde is showing us his evil side. See? Just like I said."

Sue leaned over Amy to reach me. "You sure you never read the book?"

"Book? This trash isn't based on any written matter or it would have been burned first. It's all the dreary outcome of a mind tortured by watching endless soap operas. Now what's going on?"

"The spurned gentlemen are trying to reason with her and warn her about Mr. Tall and Blonde," Amy answered.

"Ha! Like she'll believe them! She'll think they're just jealous. Man, if they're smart they'll figure out just how lucky they are to have escaped her crazy clutches. Ah, well. Now ol' Miss Charlotte will try to get the bad guy to fall for her, you can bet."

"He doesn't seem too interested," Wufei noted.

"Not yet. She'll have to really knock herself out to get his attention. Look... Oh, cripes. There she goes with the absurd devotion act. What a simpering fool!"

"Well, at least those other nice men are free to find... OH!"

"Heh, heh. Yeah, Mr. Tall, Blonde, and _Evil_ is killing them off one by one. That's why they're disappearing."

"There's where our zombies are going to come from," Fay put in from the far side of Sue.

"Betcher right," I agreed. "Gods, listen to that guy bellow. Yeah, yeah, you're evil and you're proud, we got that. Oh, now he's going to revel in his biliousness."

"Merquise developed his vocal expertise commanding men." Wufei smiled at his extraordinary brilliance. _Men… _I loved him, but my boyfriend was an arrogant son-of-a-bitch.

"_And now..._

_My greatest moment wherein I shall summon the_

_lord of the dead_

_from the bowels of the earth._

_Hear me, hear my call! Rise up!"_

"**That**'s his incantation? I could have come up with five better ones with my tongue tied behind my...well, with no problem at all, anyway." And I could!

"_Together we shall begin the Reign of the Zombies!_

_Rise, heed my call and appear,_

_Oh EXOR, LORD OF DARKNESS!_

_Rise!"_

"Exor? What kind of a lame name for a demon god is that?" Wufei asked me. "They are shameless."

"Strangely familiar, oddly enough," I grumbled. I was fighting through the cluttered storage lockers in my mind, the endless yard sale knickknack knowledge collecting in my brain, searching for a file, the one where that name, Exor, was associated with its nutcase of a creator.

"_No, no! Blaise darling! You've been misguided._

_This isn't the way to salvation, dear._

_Let me help you! Let me guide you back on the path of the good and right._

_I...I... yes, I vow with all my heart to change you._

_To rid you off all evil and turn you to the light..."_

"Hey, dearie, open your eyes!" I shouted again. "Quit railing away. Blaise dearest is murdering everyone in the play. He is not listening, baby."

"_It was all the fault of that nasty little boutique-owner temptress, I know._

_It's not your fault at all!"_

"Little boutique owner? Say what?" I gasped. Instantly my mind located the missing information, filed under 'Insane complexes' and 'people who hated her' and came up with Dorothy E, (for Exor; could it be so simple?) Catalonia– bingo! But how had Dorothy's insane ravings, her 'screen play,' made it into this play, and why?

"I don't think she is convincing him," Wufei shared with all my listeners. "He's not changing his mind about raising the dead."

"You are right, Mr. Wufei. That Miss Charlotte is going about this all wrong. She's doing it for the wrong reasons. If she had justice in her heart and was truly righteous and of pure intentions, then, _and only then_, might she have the strength to overcome his evil!"

"Ah, Amy? Please sit down, the folks behind you can't see," Sue urged her.

"That's okay, honey. You're prettier than anything on that stage," intoned the voice of a young man from the seats behind them.

"Oh!" Amy gasped, and fell back into her seat, a blush of embarrassment spreading over her cheeks.

"_I see I have no choice left. I- I must be the final sacrifice!_

_You are far greater a man than a delicate,_

_chaste maiden such as I could have imagined._

_I would have given you everything!"_

"That's bullshit! You would have slept with the creep if he'd given you a second glance, that's all you mean," I grumbled. "_Still _would if he winked."

"_Your path of glory to your gods offers me no attractions._

_Only by the dark light of Exor, the Lord of Darkness is there a place for me to rule the dead!"_

"Dark light? How is that a meaningful phrase? Who wrote this drivel?" Fay asked Wufei, as if he'd know.

Wufei opened his dog-eared play list. "It says here that Marty Cat-rat-love, or something-- the print is smudged by something disgusting." And then he dropped the offending object on the floor. "You look it up if you want."

"Never heard of him," Fay clipped off. "When's this over?"

I laughed, but it was mostly at my prissy boyfriend's trials with his sticky fingers. "Pretty soon, there aren't any people alive anymore, 'cept those two." I rummaged through my purse for a wet-wipe (always keep one in a baggy), found it, and passed it to Wufei, much to his relief. He'd reward me later with his undying devotion.

"And I think that's about to change," Sue pitched in. "Looks likes our poor heroine is about to throw herself overboard for the cause."

"_Then to prove my love for you is greater than all else, take me!_

_Sacrifice me to your demon lord, Exor._

_I shall die devoted to you and for that you shall turn from evil and love me forever bound in my blood!"_

"He's actually killing her after that sweet speech! He is awful. What's the purpose in that?" Amy cried out, completely puzzled by the stupid play.

"There is none. This whole play is pointless. He kills her in blood-lust-rage thing; his demon lord, Exor, an affiliate of Exon the Oil Magnate, possesses him."

In all seriousness Amy replied, "Is that what he's doing? Oh, I get it now."

Wufei shook his head. "I thought he was simply being funnier than before."

"_I am Exor, the demon Lord of Darkness!_

_Let the reign of zombies begin!_

_Oh no, Nooooo!_

_The vessel I have chosen for my return is too weak with regret..._

_and now I, too, die..."_

"Yeah, and now look, he dies too. With anemic little 'poofs' of fire and brimstone, how lame. What a display of pyrotechnics. Great, marvelous! Everyone dies in the end. What a load of crap! What's the purpose? Good, bad, or indifferent, everyone dies in the end? What a senseless, inane, worthless plot!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. "Bring on the zombies or I'm demanding my money back!"

"Zombies! Zombies!"

A large contingent of agitators seated around my crowd, joined in, "Zombies, zombies!" not knowing if there were any or not.

Magically, the lights dimmed and the spots adjusted to the color 'eerie.' Fog machines in the aisles and offstage gassed out clouds of mist, further contributing to the moody atmosphere. And if that wasn't enough, creepy music rose out of nowhere, and this was particularly odd because at no other time in the play was there music or singing involved.

I sat forward with a grin. "Now we're getting someplace."

Shadowy, pale-faced apparitions appeared to rise from the floors, in the aisles, on the stage. I had no trouble picking out Duo from the other raggedly dressed figures because of his distinctive hair. So much beauty wasted on a guy, I gotta say. Not in that makeup, though.

Heero was a little harder to discern, although he was standing close to Duo, but I found him. That guy scared me before I got to know him. The way he just sat and stared… When he hooked up with Duo I worried about his motives. What Duo didn't need was an artsy-fartsy headcase ruining his life—again. Solo had been one. Duo fell for the type, I guess, but he didn't have to be screwed over for his weakness. Heero wasn't Solo. He was turning out to be fantastic for Duo. Oh, yeah, he was an artist and crazy, but he was as submissive as a puppy and he put Duo first, for a change. And it didn't hurt that he had a sexy way of running his fingers through his hair, leaving it mussy, and that he had eyes the color of Crater Lake. Look at him now, looking over at Duo, catching his eye and smiling. Now that was the look of love. How could I not love Heero, too?

Then Quatre and Trowa appeared. That damned Quatre looked sweet and meek but he was scheming and controlling in ways Duo never even guessed, wasn't even aware of. But… he had opted out of Duo's life before injuring Duo too deeply. He'd left no scars, which, I guess, could make him an okay guy in my book. Trowa was one cool dude. He could handle Duo and Quatre—at the same time! The man had to have nerves of steel.

Oh, there was Zechs again. I could hear the girls squeal. He made a fantastic demon lord zombie. His height permitting him loom over the others and his hair, loose, glowed.

"There's Duo and Zechs, too!" Amy cried gleefully and pointing to the far side of the room. "He sees me!"

Who knows what she was talking about?

For the first time all evening, the hall came alive, although the intention was more likely to have been to suggest the opposite.

The big production number began with all the zombies leaping vigorously about and singing the catchy opening song. Then Heero and Duo peeled off from the lineup for their portrayals of the spurned suitors. Duo sidled up to the zombie version of the Charlotte character and began to sing. His youthful voice rang sweet and clear as he attempted to sing his way into her heart.

"_Please be my lady._

_I know I can make you happy,_

_If you will let me,_

_I promise to make you happy_

_--maybe, maybe."_

"He has a nice voice," Amy said giggling.

The zombie girl resisted Duo's temptations and charming smile with a firm shake of her head, and turned away. He heaved a dramatic sigh, and then tap-danced off stage, only to return moments later to form a part of the chorus.

"I didn't know he could sing. He dances, too? Wow!" Sue cried out.

"He's just Mr. Entertainment, isn't he?" Fay said sarcastically.

I was so proud. Was that _my_ Duo up there on the stage? I knew he could sing and dance like a pro, having demonstrated his talents under the influence of more alcohol than had been good for him a time or two in the past. I'd bet my next month's profits that Solo had even thought so, but had kept him down in typical competitive male star style. Yeah, I was impressed. I imagined him singing softly, arms around his Heero, lying together, under the sheets.

Oooh, not what I should be thinking about… Change visuals… Solo.

Solo. God, I hated that man and what he'd done to Duo. I mean, he was hot and handsome and Sanc's performer of the moment, but it was damned hard for me to stand by and watch Duo's self-confidence plummet, to see that out-going personality fade, crash and burn, steamrollered by Solo's career. Duo would not listen to me.

"But what you have isn't love, Duo. Infatuation lifted to the idolatry stage, maybe, but it's not love!"

I remember screaming at him and him getting so mad. I know he knew I was right, but he just didn't seem to be able to assert himself. He stopped calling and returning my calls after I had pointed out how bad their relationship was. He said he didn't care what I thought.

He was devoted to Solo. He lived with Solo, and owned nothing but a closet of clothes and the mortuary. He'd never sing again, even in the shower, if it made Solo mad. He'd stand by while Solo pawed some glitzy girl for a promo shot, always in the shadows. He almost never went out in public with Solo, maybe never, but he never, ever went out with anyone else. Saving himself for Solo.

Duo was crazy-devoted. He was immature, stubborn, and really, really acting stupid.

Like everyone else, I read about the plane crash, front page, the morning after. Solo died in the plane crash and left Duo with nothing but the mortuary he came with. Even lost the clothes because he was barred from the apartment they shared. He wasn't in the will. He wasn't under contract. He was nothing, and so he got nothing.

My dear sweet Duo. He was so heartbroken, he nearly died. I was too late finding out about the funeral to stop him from doing the embalming. He wanted to make Solo look right, after the crash. He did it and nearly killed himself in the process.

Thank God for the Claremonts for taking him in and nursing him back to health. He'd been practically catatonic, and Duo wouldn't have made that up when he told me about it later. Those nice people even convinced him to call me and renew our friendship. I owe them so much.

And after getting back on his feet and getting back to work, he had to meet someone like Quatre. Well, at least Heero was there, too. He took over where I couldn't. You see, I'd vowed not to let Duo die inside again, if I could help it. So far, so good.

That whole coffee shop romance was just so cute, looking back on it. Poor old Heero with his tattered jacket, all moony-eyed and making cards for Duo, who was dating one of the richest guys in town. The guy could hardly string three words into a sentence, but he could draw like sin. I got a good look at that notebook of his once when he left it on the table to visit the men's room. That's when I saw Duo as he did. Sure, he was beautiful, but Heero could see Duo's inner beauty and in his portraits it shone through.

Of course, it took me awhile to be sure of him, as sure as you can ever be about another person, but now I liked Heero a lot. All you had to do was look at Duo to see how good the artist was for him. That confident strut. Look at him strut!

"Swing that braid!" I shouted.

Yeah, Duo was happy, secure in his head, and had a positive outlook again. Thank you Heero! Love you!

Weird as all get out, though, Heero was. Recently, he had slapped one of those o-fuda things on me and then taken it back saying I should test it out on Wufei first, just in case. I didn't know what the hell to make of that so I showed the slip of paper to Wufei. He seemed to understand what it was for, pronounced it "nonsense", but he didn't throw it out. It's still pasted on the inside of my shop door, where he left it. Such a dear, my Wufei.

Sigh. Desire filled my mind and I looked over at Wufei.

"What?" Wufei asked. _Had he cringed?_

It took the voices of the zombie chorus shook me out of my dream world. I suddenly wanted to have my sweetie-pie all to myself. "Let's forget dinner and go home…now."

"Now? It's finally gotten interesting," Wufei said.

Then it was Trowa's turn to warble his case:

"_We're the undead, 'nuff said._

_We're zombies, gotta get that through yer head._

_Don't come around unless you've come from underground...!"_

His soft, low voice and sensitive manner melted the hearts of many of the girls listening, but he was turned away by the Charlotte poser just the same. He moon-walked over to join the background singers.

"He's pretty good, isn't he?" I called over to Sue, who was looking starry-eyed up at the boys.

"He sings...and those moves..." The rest of what Sue wanted to say was lost as the music swelled.

Amy gasped. "Oh, look! It's big, bad-boy Zechs!"

Zechs lurched stage center, clasped the zombie girl at the elbow, and bellowed in a rocker scream:

"_I got no use for your platitudes._

_I have my own agenda._

_I got no use for your attitude,_

_Don't start something you can't finish_

_I'm something bigger than all the rest._

_I'm the general to rule the world_

_So don't put me to some test,_

_Don't start something you can't finish!"_

"Gods, will you listen to that, Amy!" I poked my friend in the side to get her attention. "He really could be a rock star, too, dontcha think?"

"Uh, huh," she nodded, unable to tear her eyes off the very sexy-looking man.

Immediately after Zombie Zechs ended his solo, the faux-Charlotte zombie girl locked him in a tight embrace. Her shrill voice whined,

"_Oh, no! Please let me show you how love can free your heart!"_

Backing her was the chorus of zombies singing:

"_Free your heart, free your heart!"_

At last, Zechs loosened her grip, and let loose with a heart-rending scream:

"_Begone!"_

He hit his final note then with an elegant twist of his wrist flung the girl off him and sent her spinning into the wings.

Lucky for everyone, the personalities of my buddies, generously including Zechs in that exclusive grouping, transcended the material and brought the house to its feet. The play ended with a tacky climatic light show with colored lenses and strobes. The standout performances of Zechs, Trowa, and Duo added a humorous edge to what had intended to be a seriously, frightening, dismal, and depressing conclusion. No amount of makeup could disguise how good-looking, or unseasoned, they were. They stole the show, such as it was.

"Zom-bies! Zom-bies! Zom-bies!" chanted the audience.

The director stood there with his mouth hanging open like he didn't know what to do. The show was over. All the actors had returned to the stage and were taking their bows. How could he satisfy their need for more zombies? The director must have been completely unprepared, and the producer seemed baffled as well. As the curtains rose and the actors took their final bows, the din became overwhelming.

"Zom-bies! Zom-bies! Zom-bies!"

It was Duo's pretty, blond ex who stepped up to the plate, er, microphone. "Would you like us to carry the encore?"

"Yes!" roared the seething mob, although they weren't the ones he'd actually asked.

The frazzled-looking director jumped at the possibility. "Could you? Yes, yes, anything!"

This was all to the background chant of "Zom-bies! Zom-bies! Zom-bies!"

"We have a little skit," Quatre announced with a wink.

"Yay!"

From the look on Heero's face, a kinda death-glaring death mask, I'll bet Quat-boy and Trowa had pressed Heero into their 'act' for 'fun' and 'just in case,' while Heero must have thought he was mostly the gag writer and that they would have trained someone more outgoing, like Duo, to actually do the act with them.

"Okay, guys." Quatre was speaking into the mic, but directing his speech to his friends. "We're good to go. This is our chance for the big time. Broadway next, then our world tour."

Heero's eyes grew wide and wild-like, as fear must have been prickling his skin. "Skit? Now? Out there?"

Quatre chuckled, and gave him a little push. "Let's just get past tonight. Come on, Heero; you're the nurse."

The three young men ducked in front of the falling curtain, while the applause rose to an awful din. At the side, Zechs stood with Duo. I could hear him ask, "You knew about this, I take it?"

"Notta bit," Duo grinned. He was watching Heero, but flashed me a bit of a smile, too. "Looks like Heero didn't exactly know either."

Trowa smiled and waved as he approached a microphone. As he started to speak, the hubbub died and the room grew quieter.

"Thanks everyone. You've been a super audience, and I'm used to audiences, actually, but as a circus performer. So for a few minutes here, let's say I'm your friendly family psychiatrist. You know, the mind-sweeper, the doctor who asks a lot of expensive questions your wife asks for nothing."

I laughed loudly. Just the thought of the laconic Trowa as a psychiatrist, struck my funny bone. My outburst woke up the crowd, starting the chuckles, until the whole crowd was responding to the jokes with gusto.

"In your case it's more of a case of the care of the id, by the odd," Heero said.

"Thank you _Nurse Yuy_. You know, when I was just starting my practice, I had to advertise to get patients."

Heero looked out into the audience. I waved so he could pick out me and Wufei. Sue blew him a kiss, Amy was clapping madly, Fay smiling and waving.

I swear, the guy blushed before getting back to his lines. "Oh, I remember: 'Satisfaction guaranteed or your mania back.'"

"Ah, yes..." Trowa remarked with some hesitation. "…something like that. It worked. Before long I was swamped with business."

Heero sighed as if he had to endure an idiot for a boss every day. Not bad for an amateur.

"Yes. Be a better psychiatrist and the world will beat a psychopath to your door." That, Heero said straight-faced and with absolutely no vocal expression.

He was priceless. He was hysterical. I was hysterical. No, I was in stitches. Heh, heh… now I was thinking in doctor jokes!

Anyway, they were funny enough for the crowd to rumble its approval. Trowa frowned in jest. I doubt I'd ever seen him convey so much information with his face in all the short time I'd known him.

"That will be enough for now, nurse, unless I have a patient waiting?"

"Well, in fact you do." Heero stepped aside and Quatre took center stage.

"Doctor," Quatre said in a harried tone of voice. His body language screamed 'frantic', and the crowd roared as he continued. "I'm manic-depressive, and I need help."

"I see, well... Calm down. Cheer up. Calm down. Cheer up. Calm..." Trowa's voice faded into the applause.

The guy was a natural clown, but then so was his little blond boyfriend. What a cute couple they made! Um… sorry, Duo, but they really work together; besides, you have a hot stud artist now.

Trowa had turned to stare over at Heero and asked, "Who's next?"

"A very difficult case." Heero motioned to Quatre, who had been flattening his hair into a central part to appear as a new patient.

Quatre announced, "Doctor, I have a split personality. What can you do for me?"

Trowa gestured to Heero again. "Nurse, bring in another chair."

I don't know what was funnier, the cheesy lines or the 'nurse Heero' reference!

"You'll need more than that," Quatre said. "I've got lots of personalities."

"You mean you have a lot of personality, don't you?"

"No, I have an identity problem... So do I," he added in an entirely different voice to sound like a different person.

While we all laughed and giggled, Quatre messed with his hair. He would either change his hair or adorn his head with a hat between each new character. In this case he pushed it completely out of his face. It made him look older, I think.

"Doctor, I keep thinking that I'm a deck of cards!"

"Sit over there and I'll deal with you later."

Trowa smiled at his joke, and the crowd whooped it up. It was even funnier with them still in Zombie makeup for all this. Heero standing there, arms crossed, looking very un-nurselike, made me lose it.

"Next?"

Quatre parted his blond mop to one side. "Doctor, I keep thinking I'm a dustbin."

"Don't talk such rubbish."

Ha, ha, ha! Ah, this was a hoot!

Quatre spiked his hair up and out in a wild fashion. "Doctor, people tell me I'm a wheelbarrow."

"My only advice for you is this: Don't let people push you around."

"Doctor, I can't stop _stealing_ things," Quatre whined with a baseball hat mashing his hair down. "I don't stop at bases!"

"Nurse, hand me those pills." Trowa took an imaginary vial from Heero, and held it out to Quatre. "Here, take these pills. They should help you."

"But what if they don't?"

"Pick up a Rolls for me, silver, wood burl interior, please."

Yeah, there were folks rolling in the aisles by this time. Me? I kept up the applause and chuckles to let them know I cared. Hell, Wufei was smiling, hiding it behind a hand, but smiling just the same.

Quatre tossed the hat into the crowd, causing a little uproar, then used his fingers to comb his hair over his eyes. "Doctor, I keep thinking I'm a curtain."

"Pull yourself together!" Trowa snapped, and pushed his bangs out of his eyes with a smile. The crowd twittered as the fall of grey-streaked hair flopped back in place, covering one kohl-smudged eye completely.

With a beanie cap in place this time, Quatre said, "Doctor, I keep thinking I'm a billiard ball."

"Get to the end of the _queue_," Trowa replied wearily. "Aren't we about out of personalities yet?"

"We're nearly out of script," Heero mumbled, which I for one thought was funny, funny, funny.

"There's me!" Quatre squeaked. "Everyone forgets about me. No one notices me. Doctor, I keep thinking I must be invisible."

"Who said that?" Trowa asked, looking past Quatre. He grinned and turned back to his nurse. "Actually, I like treating a patient with a split personality."

"Is that because schizophrenics pay double?" Heero asked.

The way Heero kept his voice flat and emotionless made his lines come off even funnier. I got hiccups. The surrounding multitude twittered and snorted like a barnyard of animals. Heero could really bring out the rustic in us all.

"No only that, but Medicare pays for _all_ of them!" Trowa laughed at his own joke.

Sigh from the beleaguered nurse. "There's another patient to see you," Heero told him. "My, ah, brother. I hope you can help him."

Quatre smashed a feathered 'Peter Pan' hat on his head and skipped around. Trowa folded his arms over his chest and watched seriously. "Okay, so what's your problem?"

"I think I'm a chicken."

"You do? How long has this been going on?"

"Ever since I was an egg!"

Before the laughter completely died down, Trowa asked Heero, "What's really wrong with your brother?"

"Oh, it is true. He thinks he is a chicken."

"And how long would you say he's been acting like a chicken?"

"Three years. We would have sent him in sooner, but we needed the eggs."

Trowa rolled his eyes as the audience laughed. God, that had been lame. I bet Heero hadn't written it either.

"Well, _nurse_, I'm a busy man. I say let's close up shop for the day. I've already got the date possibilities lining up to see me tonight, and I have to look my best."

"Don't become too self-absorbed; it could affect your work," Heero warned him.

"You think so?"

"Yes. You see, there once was a doctor who was so conceited about his looks and charm that whenever he took a woman's pulse, he subtracted 10 beats to account for her being excited near him."

"That so? What a clever man!" Trowa laughed. He grabbed hold of Quatre's arm and then Heero's, as if testing their pulses.

"This is ridiculous. We don't even have pulses. We _are_ zombies," Quatre stressed for those who didn't get the joke the first time.

Trowa slapped his hand to his forehead and threw his arms up as if in frustration. "So, that's the problem! I thought I was losing my touch."

Oh, GOD! Had Trowa intended to **out** them all on stage, or was that just me? Well, probably just me. The throng about me leaped to their feet in an ear-splitting standing ovation.

The guys all bowed and smiled and waved from the stage, saying repeatedly, "Thank you!"

The director swept onto the stage, beaming, and then grabbed a microphone. "Oh, thank you, thank you all. You've been an extraordinary audience. Yes, yes, just marvelous!"

The producer waited for the noise to die down and then took his turn at the mic. "We have the most exciting news! We have just been asked to take this show on the road, starting with ATLAS CITY, everyone!"

"But the play sucked!" someone in the vicinity of Wufei yelled. Okay, me. Someone had to say it!

"Oh, no... not the whole play, just the zombies. We'll wrap an entire musical around them!" the director reassured everyone-- me.

The happy horde roared its approval, nearly drowning out his next words. I had to strain to catch the last lines. "...thank our writer who is with us tonight. Let's give a round of applause to Dorothy Catalonia for her dazzling script!"

"Brain-numbing, rather," Wufei muttered. "You wanted to cut out earlier. Ready now?"

"Not now. Gotta see Duo first, you know that." I could feel a headache coming on. I rubbed at my temples. "God, I was just this close to guessing she wrote the whole thing, too."

"Naturally."

I also wanted to get back at Dorothy for referencing me in a derogatory manner in her atrocious play. How humiliating! I saw Dorothy as she tore out from behind the scenery, berating the sets people for not firing up the flames appropriately.

"What kind of a producer would have put up good money for a ridiculous script by that insane girl, I ask you?"

Amy carefully folded back the last page of her play list and read me the answer, "A Mr. Zangalosky. See? Producer: Mr. Zangalosky. And that makes sense."

"Why should it? Nothing else about this does..." Fay retorted.

"Well, that's Dorothy's boyfriend's last name."

"Who?"

"Martin Zangalosky! You knew that, didn't you Miss Hilde?"

"Uh—"

My eyes were on glued to the stage where Dorothy had just picked up a small flame thrower and rammed the force level to 'high', screeching, "**Like this**!"

A burst of fire blasted across the stage, narrowly missing the actors, who were flying left and right. The curtains caught fire, however, and toxic smoke billowed out over the now-standing crowd in the hall. Seconds later, the automatic sprinkling system switched on, adding a good drenching to the audience's suffering.

Wufei alone seemed pleased.

"What are you grinning about?" I snapped as I wiped spray from my eyes.

"I finally figured out the title, Reign of Zombies." He was fighting back a smile so I knew he thought what he was about to say was terribly clever.

"What's that?" I asked, playing along like a good girlfriend.

"I was waiting for the _rain_ the whole time."

I blinked. He'd made a joke, and a good one, a clever one. He could gloat over it without me encouraging him. "Heh, heh…yeah… Now, move it! Excuse me! Let me through! Argh! To be taller!"

After the play and after the sprinkler system had been shut down, I had to fight my way to get near Duo through a crush of girls wanting Trowa's autograph. There were plenty begging for Quatre and Heero's attention, too, blocking my path.

I climbed atop some rock scenery to get a look at the lay of the land, so to speak. Quatre had worked his way around to be near Trowa. Duo was looking at them, too, and I figured he recognized that the irritated expression Quatre wore was because he wasn't the center of Trowa's attention. I jumped into an opening in the masses and slipped rather close to them.

I could hear Duo as he shouted, "Hey, Quat. Looks like Tro's pretty popular all the sudden, huh? Feeling left out?"

"Yeah!"

I was only a step away from Duo, when stopped to check on Wufei's whereabouts. He was standing a bit off to the side, Sally Po speaking to him in passing. It was odd. I understood that feeling of Quatre's perfectly. I wanted my boyfriend's smile directed at me and me alone. I wanted to hear his voice whispering in my ear. I wanted to feel his touch. I wanted him exclusively. I wanted to be with him and him alone, the sole object of his adoration. But there he was chatting with his ex. Ex's should make themselves scarce, very scarce. Invisible would be about right.

Yeah, I could understand if Quatre was a bit miffed having to watch Trowa fend off enthusiastic devotees-- while being surrounded by his own crowd of fans, the big baby! Did the poor, little rich boy think Trowa would always be dancing attendance on him? Maybe it was a good thing for us jealous types to learn to get over ourselves, and I put myself into that category. Ew yuck!

Trowa had an arm draped around one girl's shoulders, and was absent-mindedly stroking her arm. Quatre looked as if he might tear off the arm from the girl's body if it didn't move soon—now. Jostling me on my other side, the producer was thrusting his way to the zombie boys, shouting crap like, "nailing down … popular… new venture."

Soon the shouting, pushing, and damp press of bodies was more than even I could stand. Knowing what I did about Heero from Duo, I wondered how he was surviving the crush of humans around him. Heero was not a crowd person. He was a loner.

A warm body pressed against my back, making me want to start slugging at everyone, but then it identified itself as "my boyfriend."

Wufei tickled my ear as he said, "Look at Yuy. Don't you think he's envisioning a flame thrower leveling a path, a grenade clearing the bodies and opening up an escape route?"

"Yes, heh, heh…" I laughed. "He always looks that way. It's Quatre who looks really unhappy."

In fact…

"To hell with him!" Quatre shouted at Duo, and turned away.

Oh, yeah, unhappy. Trowa appeared to be blissfully soaking up the attention without him but, "I think Trowa is looking for him."

"Move over, honey," Trowa told the girl blocking his view. She wouldn't budge, though, so he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her around to the side. "What was that?" he asked the producer to repeat what he had said.

Wufei strong-armed a path of his own, dragging me out with him. Somehow, Quatre had cut his way out, too, and was already standing outside the jostling crowd. "Take me out of this madhouse, please?"

"How?" Wufei asked. "You want me to arrest you?"

"If that's what it takes to get out the door."

"I can do that." He pulled out a pair of manacles from the ether and clamped them around Winner's wrists. "It is too crowded in here for us. Hilde, you can call Maxwell later and tell him how great he did." Wufei pointed to one of the exits. "Preventers' business! Make way!"

An abyss opened at our feet, the sea parted, and we moved forward. I couldn't help but poke Quatre in the ribs as he past me at the door. "I think you just lost your girl."

Quatre stiffened and stared ahead, but said nothing. Okay, I'd been a bit mean, but he had hurt my little buddy with his 'soft' breakup and I'd been dying for the opportunity to push back, not that it made me feel better.

When I found Wufei's car, I settled comfortably in the passenger seat up front, which meant Quatre had to crawl in back. I wondered how Mr. Rich-boy Winner would react. It wasn't a big deal, but I figured Quatre would expect to would have been up front next to Wufei with me scrunched in back. As it turned out, he hesitated only a moment, before giving me a little smile and then sliding into the back. Well, it probably felt unfamiliar and a little novel to him, I decided, but he was dealing with it well.

Wufei stopped at Quatre's house first.

"Thank you for the ride, Wufei. " Quatre looked at me with an open expression. "You don't like me very much, I know, and I'm sorry. You don't think I treated Duo very well, do you?"

The man was blunt as a Pekingese's nose and just a cute, while I looked like the cat who raped the canary. "Right." I was too surprised to think of anything cleverer.

"May I ask why?"

I shrugged. "If you want to be insulted," I said, "that's up to you."

He chuckled. He could really take it, blast him anyway. "No, that's okay. But he's much happier now, you know."

"So all's well that ends well? Is that it? The ends justify the means?"

"I don't believe so. But he's found it in his heart to forgive me and grow our friendship. As another ally of his, I'd like you to be my friend, too."

Aw, wasn't he just too sweet? "Okay." I couldn't let Duo be the bigger man, could I? "I promise not to put any more salt in your "Frappychino" drink."

"That was you?" He rested his hands on his hips and smiled. "I thought it was Heero all this time. I'll have to apologize to him."

"What did you do to that poor guy?" Wufei asked, entering our conversation, probably to speed up its conclusion.

"I've been dumping artificial sweetener in his tea." He shook his head. "He was complaining to the server about it the other day and I was afraid they might come to blows. Well, that I can resolve easy enough. See you later, Hilde," Quatre said with a friendly wave.

"See ya!"

He sure was polite. And nice. And, I had to admit, a classy Winner.

"I do not understand you and all your gay boy friends," Wufei said.

"It's a good thing," I told him, "or you wouldn't be you."

"Needless to say," he said with a smug little smile, which I had to kiss.

We backed down the driveway and sped off to my place for an evening of winter-cuddling and love.

* * *

End Chapter 23

A/N: Would you like a holiday greeting card from Heero and Duo? Go to my profile and email me your email address. That's it. Don't put your email in a review. Never know who might get a hold of it. Thanks!--KS

TBC in Chapter 24 -- Note Cards part 5


	24. Note Cards, Part 5

13

**Greeting Cards**

This is a side story to Heero's greeting cards on-going story arc, featuring Quatre and Trowa's POV.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

A/N: I dedicate this chapter to WaterLily for steering me in the right direction.

**Warnings:** AU, male/male pairings, language

**Chapter 24 --**

**Note Cards,** **Part 5**

* * *

(o) **Trowa POV**

I wasn't sure what was wrong, but I knew from Quatre's creased brow that I'd caused it.

It once slipped out that I remembered Quatre from some private school we attended. Nothing else about that time but him. No other classmates, no teacher, no class, and no embarrassing scene in a gym shower. I still think it's funny how clearly he came through the brain-scrim to be remembered, while my childhood had been eliminated.

Yeah, right. He was pretty as a picture. I knew that he was terribly wealthy, from a prestigious family, and was constantly showered with attention from countless, appealing admirers of both sexes. I knew from way back, watching him in school, and later on from listening to Duo's stray comments, that he would be a high maintenance boyfriend to keep.

I didn't have a ghost of a chance interesting him back then as a scrawny young teenager. Things had changed and now I did. I had time to devote to such a relationship, so I wasn't afraid of what I was getting into. What else better did I have to do than lavish Quatre Winner with attention? Nothing, was my opinion.

His, too. And, here was the end of the play and I was ignoring him. Time to haul ass and track him down.

Oh, I knew he knew how I felt about him. He could assess that by sensing my emotions, which he said he'd taught himself to avoid as much as possible, as most people resented invasions to their privacy. When I mentioned this at the coffee shop, it was Chang who took an interest.

"_Chi," _he said (pronounced Chee). "He feels your_ chi. _It is your internal energy, the subtle, responsive force that interacts as the intimate and profound link between, physical form, physical health, empowerment, attitude and emotions."

Since he had everyone's undivided attention, Chang went on to say, formulating his dissertation as he went along, "Everything in creation is made up of electromagnetic energy vibrating at different frequencies that correspond to sound, light and color. The existence of electromagnetic fields around every object in the world, known as an aura, is a scientifically proven fact. The Chinese refer to this energy as **'**Chi', the vital life force energyof the Universe, present within every living thing. The energy of Chi emits vibrant, bright colors (the aura), a vibrational frequency, and a sound. When Chi becomes disturbed, stagnant, imbalanced or depleted, disease and illness begin to take form - the aura becomes darker and discolored, personal frequency vibrates incorrectly, and the meridians (energy pathways - Chinese origin), within the body become blocked." He looked at me and then Quatre. "And that is what he reads."

Maxwell supplied the auditory sound effects to Chang's lecture with buzzes and choking sounds and hums, which pissed off the cop-gone-agent and ended the exchange. I don't know if Duo actually believed in Quatre's special talent or not. He acted like it was all a big joke, which was okay by me because the Chang-man took everything way too seriously.

And Quatre hadn't minded, either. Quatre seemed to appreciate Duo's brand of doofus behavior, but not enough to make me jealous. They hadn't gotten on in the sex department, so I was cool. It's all gold.

So why had Quatre stormed out of the after-play festivities, I wondered, again? _Again_, but I was not obsessing over it. He hadn't stranded me. He'd left me the car to get home. I mean, he had to know my heart was his. I'd never given him any reason to mistrust me or think I messed around. So, the only thing I could come up with was that things were going sooooo well between us that in order to keep things interesting he manufactured his own competition for my attention—the fan girls. That, at least, was my breakdown of his head.

I sure didn't need to invent rivals for his attention. Real enough ones were always there hovering at the edges, stopping by our table to say "hi", giving me the evil eye. He was usually polite, but, thank God, didn't flirt with them when he was with me.

So, his storming off wasn't likely to be anything serious. Just something "fun" to get squared away.

After I watched him make his quick retreat with Chang and Hilde, I broke free of the play's fans, and meandered out to my car. One quick call to Chang to be informed that, yes, Quatre was home, which was all I needed to set my mind at rest.

That was a better state for my mind to be in than it had been a couple weeks ago, when I couldn't figure out enough of my past to know if I came from outer space and been dumped in a lab to grow up like a lab rat with assigned surrogate parents who checked out when I was old enough to be hurt by that and then sold to the circus where I was such a hit that I got paroled to college—or not.

Take a deep breath.

And there was my newly minted boyfriend torpedoing ahead on Mission Discovery--Trowa Barton's Past, wholly convinced we'd discover I had the pedigree of a prince with an inheritance simply awaiting my re-surfacing to claim.

Yeah, things could be worse than having a pissy, pedigreed boyfriend lying-in-wait for me to come save him from his own boredom. I was so in for it. Poor me.

(o) **Quatre POV**

Trowa! Even before we started sleeping together, Trowa had always gone out of his way to find time for me. But not today. Sure, we'd acted and sung and danced together, but after the show, it was as if I, Quatre, was invisible. Trowa was practically drooling-- and over fangirls!

Oh, I should forget it and just move on, I guess, but so many thoughts were troubling me. First I wasn't ready to accept that Trowa trading me in for a girl, because I was realistic, not a total idiot, and because Trowa and I had just gotten back from a wonderful week together. It wasn't even possible that Trowa could have gotten over me just like that. Certainly not because a bunch of girls had gone gah-gah over him. No, Trowa wasn't that superficial and I wasn't that superfluous. I wasn't superfluous at all, actually.

So why was I here alone and he there at the party?

Well, maybe there could be disturbing concerns over Trowa's behavior tickling at the edge of my mind. He had an arm around a girl. There, I said it. I'd never seen him do more than check our another guy, and that rarely, and then we both had and laughed about it. He had absolutely no memories of a past lover of any kind. He was attentive to me and me alone, up to tonight. So, should I, _could_ I ever trust him to be _true_?

I nearly gagged realizing what I had thought. The concept of "being true" was from some romance novel, wasn't it?

Well, that wonderful week devoted to discovering Trowa's parentage could have been lifted straight out of a bodice- ripper, or, more appropriately, a codpiece-cleaver. Did that mean I was obsessed with romance?

May. Be. Ever since that lovely declaration of his love and mine in return, I've had my head in a cloud. It was love as far as I was concerned. Was it the love of a lifetime? I could compare what I felt with what I detected from others around me, but it was all different. Trowa was serene blue with grey tones, which I think were indicative of where he was psychically damaged resulting in his memory loss. Wufei was a spiky green and Hilde was a sunburst. From Heero I was slammed with an ultra-violet intensity I avoided prying into. Totally opposite on the 'aura' spectrum, Duo was a pulsating infrared. I wondered briefly what attracted such paradoxical 'chi' to each other? Still, from them all I sensed intensity of feeling I characterized as 'love'. And I had it too. I was a **rainbow.** How gay was that?

Now, if that little analytical study didn't suck the romance out of me, maybe reviewing my last quarter's class notes from marketing applications of integral calculus would. No, I couldn't do that to myself. This was my winter break and I was going to work on something besides my advanced degree.

Instead, I thought about Trowa and our first trip to Nova in the L3 area. That had been rather exciting. Trowa had surprised me with his assertive behavior in bed, but we worked things out. I know I tended to be demanding. What was also exciting were his revelations about his family. We untangled everything he knew later, which was a real bonding experience, and I wrote up notes to summarize it all.

First, there was the 'séance'.

During the séance, Trowa recalled a woman called Leia, but then he couldn't remember why he did and that, in fact, he wasn't positive about the name, admitting that her name could have come to mind because Zechs had brought up her name at work.

Trowa also told me about a girl who had died and come in for burial, and that her name, Mariemaia, was a familiar one. For some reason he thought her death should be a vital piece of some puzzle.

Then there was the mysterious muttering, "the White Fang knife had been mine." That seemed to haunt him more than anything, and I understood why when he told me that he was talking about a knife found at a murder site. I called my lawyer-sister, Aria, that night to touch bases with her and make certain she could make time to represent him. If we determined he really did have a knife like that, the police would eventually, too, and he'd need help.

It embarrasses me to admit, this, but what I didn't tell him was how relieved I was that he wasn't reliving fond memories of past lovers, male ones in particular. In light of his problems, even I knew it was totally indecent of me to be so ego-centric. Still, I did feel that way, and I'm not proud of it. Maybe that urged me to alter our trip plans a few weeks later and take him to Nova rather than the L4 dunes.

I feel positive that I did the right thing for him. Just visiting Nova and seeing places he had been before triggered another surge of memories.

And before we did left, his cousin Catherine paid him a visit and dumped a bombshell on him. Now we had a more complete picture of his childhood. Combining what she'd told him and what Trowa "remembered" during our trip to Nova, I knew that he had been born Tristan Bloom to his mother, Suzanne Medina, and father, Chas Bloom. He grew up in a laboratory, very lonely andwatched over by a Doctor happened to his parents, we assumed they died, and he was shipped off to live with his slightly older cousin in the circus.

"_Catherine, she's a cousin, but to me more of a sister. She was my best friend at the circus. She was the one who told me my parents had died and that's why I was sent to live with her in the circus. "_

"_Death was the final and most absolute abandonment. Your parents must have cared deeply or they wouldn't have provided for you." "Catherine was a child, when you joined her in the circus, right? She couldn't have afforded to provide for you and the circus wouldn't have taken just anyone in, especially charity cases. That means along with you must have come a settlement. The circus folks must have been paid. And later you attended an expensive university, so they must have left you an inheritance to draw from."_

How he came to be in college was unknown, but they know that he was in a terrible accident, admitted under the name Trowa Barton. I felt bad for him, especially after he told me that he and I went to school together for a while and that I had ignored him. So I was determined to find out the truth about his past and help him heal.

First, I contacted Catherine to satisfy myself that she was being honest about what she knew. She had been baffled by his name change after the accident, but because he couldn't remember anything, she never pressed him to tell her why he'd changed it. It never occurred to her until Sally Po found the hidden records that someone other than him had made the change on purpose, possibly to hide him. What's worse, now it seemed that his accident may have been intentional; at least, she and I agreed it might be.

"_I don't know whether I wish his memory to be complete or save him from some awful fate should he remember something terrible," she had said._

"_Well, I promised him I'd help him heal completely. And to help jigger his memories, I offered to take Trowa back to L3 and visit all the circus camps which had been around six years ago."_

"_And did he want to do that?"_

"_Yes, desperately."_

"_In that case, I can help you narrow down the choices to the one we lived and worked at to one, and give you the directions."_

I liked her immensely after that and I think she liked me just as much. I told her we'd become good friends because we both had Trowa's best interest as primary goals.

I knew then what we had to do next.

Of course. Everything would be fine, I just knew it. There was something mysterious going on that involved Zechs and possibly Heero, but as far as Trowa's personal history was concerned, I wasn't the least bit worried about what we'd find. It was just a matter of following a few leads and we'd have all the information we needed. Trowa would have his answers and his fragmented memory would all fall into place. He _seemed _as excited as I, although, he covered it up so as not to pressure me to make everything a success. Silly boy.

It was time to put the considerable resources my prestigious family name had to work for me. If there was anything I could do for him, it would be to follow the money trail to his inheritance. It was wonderful having a purpose!

(o) ** Trowa's POV**

As much as I wanted to know about myself, learn what most other people took for granted, peel back that curtain in my brain, I was scared of what my memories would turn up. Why did my parents abandon me to grow up in a lab? What horrible thing was wrong with me that they would leave me to be raised by some kook and that someone later would try to kill me? And when I got my answers, would Quatre want to have anything to do with me anymore?

That last question was the more painful. His depth of caring and devotion, so far, to the miserable wretch that I was, would be unbearable to lose. Not that for a moment I thought I _could_ possibly thwart the Will of a Winner in full mission mode, but I _considered_ dropping all further investigation, leaving what I knew untested and looking no further. My past was already gone, now I recklessly wanted to hold on to the dream of a future.

I mean, at this point Quatre and I had some things in common, like he had been born in a laboratory, we had attended the same school at one time, and now we shared friends. And we were in love.

Love didn't blind me from recognizing his strengths and imperfections, though. I was fully aware of Quatre Raberba Winner's privileged, upper-class background, and I had picked up on the fact that sometimes he was a little shallow. Quatre had mentioned on more than one occasion that a person's background was important. I often wondered if Quatre hadn't lost interest in Duo after discovering Duo's street rat roots. No telling and it wouldn't have surprised me.

Making a full disclosure and exposing my deepest darkest fears here, I was terrified that my _background_ would fail to measure up. This hadn't become much an issue while I had no visible past, but how would he feel about me if he found out I came from a shit poor family or criminals or lunatics? Would that alienate him?

Damn. Just thinking about was alienating me from that me.

But despite all that, Quatre was firmly in the driver's seat, heading to L3 on a mission to 'fix' my problem, as if by uncovering my roots, then everything would suddenly be all rosy. Honestly, his enthusiasm for the whole project was freaking me out.

And despite my lack of trust in his intuition and my lack of enthusiasm, he came through for me.

The day of our leaving he purred up to my place looking like he was collecting me for a wild game on the golf links. He was about to suggest we drive to L3 in his slick, sexy, little sports car again, but I nixed that.

"L3 ain't L4 in winter, Quatre. Nova is at the 4000 foot level. There's likely to be feet of snow already and chains required."

"Oh."

He stuffed a hand in his pocket and turned away, wearing a tiny frown of disappointment. Guess I stuck a wrench in the works. I hated to let him down or totally spoil all his plans, but on the bright side maybe he'd cancel the trip. I could be talked into hitting those dunes to the south of L4. But, no. There was no stopping my driven boyfriend. He burned up the cell phone airwaves for a few minutes and then returned, glowing with achievement.

"We have alternate transportation arranged. All we have to do is stop by the corporate garage."

Oh joy. My little maniac was just hell-bent on doing this… thing. "That's…great, Quatre."

We traveled to the circus, in a Winner Corporation all-terrain vehicle, a surprise for me, but not the last. Not at all. My little maniac (This was my new pet name for him after meeting a few of the imposing henchmen protecting the Winner family members, over at the garage. The Maganac Corps was a forty-man private army led by a towering man, Rasid Kurama, who I would not want to antagonize. Since I couldn't spit out "Maganac", but I could "maniac," "maniac" my lover became.) had been busy behind the scenes.

I drove the behemoth. Quatre had no experience with foul weather driving and I had. He didn't even fight me about it, which proves something. 'Nuff said.

That was the last definitive action I think I took that day. Once we arrived at the circus, which he seemed to know the route to like the back of his hand even though he swore he'd never been there before, he took over.

I tried out another affectionate name on him. "My queen bee."

He gave me a venom-laced glance and declared, "I hate that particular name and would be pleased if the words never passed your lips again."

I was practically unmanned. "Okay." My heart sank to the pit of my stomach. All I wanted to do was kiss his feet and hope he forgave me. I didn't, of course, but that's how I felt for about a millisecond.

Then he grinned. "Just testing out my mean streak. How did I do?"

"Real good." Too good. Jesus! He could be deadly scary. He must have trained with the swarthy-looking maniacs.

"Super! Let's go see this circus manager and get him to spill."

Better the circus man than me. "Okay."

When information was not forthcoming, Quatre tapped that "mean streak" of his again and revealed the circus ownership papers with his name prominently displayed.

_How the hell--?_ I'd have to drill him about that little detail later, well, ask him. Politely.

"Either you tell us what we want to know, or I'll replace you with a manager who can be upfront and honest with me." Quatre had on his business face with the "don't fool with me" attitude.

The circus manager folded. Literally. To the ground, reducing himself from a high rolling "baller" to a loser with no balls. Poor schmuck. He kowtowed for several minutes, until Quatre begged him to sit in the chair and talk. When the man finally had himself under control he coughed up everything he knew. He had a problem looking me in the eye and deciding who he owed an apology to, his new "boss" or the afflicted, me, so he came off shifty-eyed.

"_A boy, Triton Bloom, was delivered to us by a Doctor S, full name undetermined. I was told that his, ah, your parents had died accidently on Zodiac island when an experiment exploded. That's all I was told. Everything!"_

"_And you just took him in? Is that common practice?" Quatre seemed to have the conversation in hand. He had the man squirming, so I let him do the talking._

"_Well, I received a meager compensation for his expenses."_

_I'll bet you did._

"_And his closest living relative was a part of our circus. That was Catherine Bloom."_

"_How about his clothes, financial support, personal belongings?"_

"_Oh, there was a little luggage with a few things, clothes, yes. And a knife." The man's eyes slid to me for reassurance, I guess. "Rather strange thing, I thought at the time, for a child. I assumed it was a keepsake from his father and it remained in his possession the duration of his stay." _

"_Are you sure?" The way Inquisitioner Quatre said that made me unsure of my eye color and made his victim's puffy face blanch to match his shirt. If this went on much longer, I was afraid he'd have a heart attack._

"_Oh, yes. He was trained for a knife throwing act first thing. I often saw him practicing with his own knife, but it was large and poorly balanced, inappropriate for a circus act. If you don't believe me, you can ask Belle. She'd remember."_

"_Or Catherine." I put in that, a lifeline to the man who'd given me a home and job under what had to have been duress. Never a father figure, he had never treated me cruelly._

"_Yes!" The man smiled for the first time since Quatre showed him those ownership papers and his color improved. I'd saved his life, so now we were even. "Yes, your cousin, lovely girl. I think I have a number where she might be reached."_

"_That won't be necessary," Quatre said, standing. "If you don't mind, we'd like to take a look around and question a few of your employees."_

_Although he look like he minded a lot, the manager simply shook his head and wished us "good luck in our findings."_

_After leaving his trailer-office, Quatre snapped at me. "Why did you do that?"_

"_Do what?" Play dumb and I might come out of this alive._

"_Relieve the tension. I had him in the palm of my hands."_

"_You had him by the balls and his heart was about to stop." I reached for his hand, cold in the chilly air. "I didn't want his death on __my conscience."_

"_Oh!" His demeanor changed completely, the toughness draining from his body and his wide-eyed innocence shining through his eyes again. "I was so into what I was doing, I didn't notice. Was I that bad?"_

"_You were that good."_

"_I'm so glad you are there beside me in all this," he said. _

"_Well, it is my life we're investigating." It was good to remind him of that, too._

"_Yes, it is. Let's hurry and find out if there's anyone else with information!"_

"'_K."_

Quatre and I interviewed everyone I recognized from the old days and got much the same answers. The description of the knife fit the one found at the murder scene. My nightmares were coming true.

I didn't want to talk about the knife or anything else on our drive to our resort hotel, where we would check in and stay for the duration of the week, undisturbed, I had hoped. I had something else to bring up.

"_You bought a circus?"_

"_Not exactly, but I have the controlling interest in it."_

"_Winner Corporation bought a circus?"_

"_A subsidiary in the entertainment business did, yes."_

"_A subsidiary."_

"_Blooming Fun."_

"_Bloom--?"_

"_Catherine and I had a nice chat and I discovered her hidden potential. I think she'll do a marvelous job overseeing the business."_

"_But she's never been to college. Even you are still studying business stuff. How can she run a business?"_

"_She did a very capable job as the circus bookkeeper and knows the business better than anyone else I could find. Besides, she's got determination and drive. I just know she'll do a fine job."_

_Damn, I couldn't fight about this, not if Catherine was a benefactor. "Like you just know everything will work out for me?"_

"_Not exactly. I'm not a fortune-teller; however, I get these positive vibes about things. I can't explain."_

"_How about tonight?"_

"_Tonight?"_

"_I've got good vibes about tonight. You, me, and our own private room."_

It turned out to be a very good night, marred by only two things. The first was a call from Zechs with some piece of information Quatre needed. In the end, this led to us locating my inheritance, but at the time the interruption made me lose my top advantage when I had to stretch across the bed to answer the phone. And I didn't have the strength later to get it back. Well, fuck me.

The second unfortunate incident occurred sometime after we'd enjoyed the most mind-blowing sex of all time. We'd showered and slipped between the sheets for the second time that night, this time to sleep.

"_Sweet dreams, Trowa."_

"'_Nite, Quatre."_

I was right; it was night. He was wrong; I had turbulent dreams, in which a White Fang blade played a major role.

I woke up with a cry, sweating buckets, and then new memories played out like an old movie reel: I was Triton Bloom, meeting a woman, named Leia Barton, from the OZ Asylum hospital where she was a volunteer nurse. The circus was shut down for rest and repairs in its winter camp. I was doing high school work-study at Voyate Laboratories, and was a delivery boy with some supplies to drop. Leia sought me out, actually, after learning that she had a younger stepbrother. Me, being listed as the adopted son of Dekim Barton, was that person.

Awakened by my outcry, Quatre wouldn't rest until I told him everything, after which he said, _"We'll have to get the rest of the story from Zechs Merquise, because this is becoming too complex not to be part of that man's problems. Trowa, that account, your inheritance, came from a benefactor, Dekim Barton, and Zechs knew enough to discover that for us."_

My past was not looking so good to me right now, but Quatre thought I was something near-heroic for surviving everything. We agreed not to pursue anything else but the money for the rest of the week.

I taught him to ski, and he showed me how I could bottom from the top on his lap in an outdoor mineral hot springs while it snowed.

It had been a week of memories, most of them good. And now the play was over and Quatre needed coddling. High maintenance or not, he was worth it to me. Because he believed in me and loved me.

And it was a substantial amount of money. And it was mine. It still hasn't sunk in completely.

(o) **Quatre POV**

My musings were interrupted by an insistent knock on the apartment door. "Who's there?"

"Quatre, its Trowa. Can I come in?"

I opened the door. He looked so… dead. "Trowa? I thought I left you back at the theater."

I had meant to sound harsh, but I know there was also a detectable tone of relief present as a smile spread to my face. Drat! I hadn't wanted that smile to appear just yet.

"You did, but when..." He paused to alter his wording, "…I couldn't find you, I left, too."

That said, Trowa wasted no time playing hard-to-get games. He took me in his arms and kissed me possessively, a hand buried in my hair as the other clasped me firmly to his chest.

How could I let on how jealous he'd made me? Of a girl! That would have been too embarrassing. I returned his kiss, then wiggled back to look at him, my ghastly, but hunky, Trowa, and thought he never looked so good to me before, appalling makeup and all.

"I can tell. It was stuffy inside that hall and wet, and I needed fresh air."

"And Wufei brought you home, I suppose?" Trowa pushed, and peered over my shoulder possibly to check if the man was in the room.

"Him? Yes, he is probably taking Hilde home now," I said easily. "Hey, you know, I've never kissed a zombie before."

"Ah, the makeup." Trowa touched his face and smeared his macabre cosmetics. The tension eased from his jaw and he smiled, relieved to know all was well with us, I'm sure. "I didn't even stay to take it off and clean up."

His answer pleased me, so I smiled brightly, lifting and the cloud of doubt between us. "Would you like to use my shower?"

"Okay, that would be nice. You haven't washed yet. Care to join me?"

There was a glint in his eye.

"No, you go ahead." I wasn't in the mood for sex quite yet, and laughed. "Not this time. It'd take too long and I want my own turn and then go out to eat. I'm starving!"

"Uh, huh…"

Trowa didn't buy all that evasiveness. He was stronger, bigger, and determined. He had me in the shower, scrubbed clean, in a fraction of the time it would have taken me to lay out my things, choose the perfect soap, adjust the temperature until it was just so…

As passionate a person as I was, I was still too inhibited to enjoy sex to the fullest. But, I'm a quick study and he a knowledgeable teacher. I learned to anticipate his climax by slowing my movements and drawing out the moment for him. I grew more responsive under his hands, and knew with confidence that the best for us was yet to come.

My reward was his wide-eyed look of astonishment moments before he cried out my name in delirium and collapsed, panting, boneless against the tile wall. And when his eyes reopened, he candidly exposed his heart. There was no secretiveness or cunning or artful pretending -- just affection, raw and honest, for me.

I could feel it. I wanted to deserve him, and so I decided to devote myself his cause. I would become the man Trowa deserved. He was an orphan, but of good family, and with money of his own.

Not that money made the man. I believed men made the money and made the money work for them. There had been a time when I nearly offered him the funds to buy into Maxwell's Mortuary, his share. Luckily, a little birdie shoved a peanut in my brain, which grew into a better idea, stopping me from carrying out that foolish deed.

And now that he has that nice little inheritance, he can buy his partnership. He's so excited and proud, in that laid-back, quiet sort of way of his. He had found himself and now it was time for me to do the same.

* * *

End of Note Cards, part 5

TBC in Chapter 25, December Wonder, part 2


	25. December Wonder, Part 2

**Greeting Cards**

This is an on-going story arc, based on Heero's greeting cards, and updated monthly, at least.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

A/N: Thanks go to Waterlily for the edits and improvements and Snow for the support.

**Warnings:** AU, male/male pairings, language, some embalming and autopsies topics covered.

**Chapter 25 --**

**December Wonder, Part 2**

* * *

I could see my boyfriend leaning against the lamppost, a piece of luggage at his feet and a smile threatening at the corners of his mouth. Man, that just-out-of-bed hair, and strong, lean body was mine to love and did _I_ know I was lucky! I could see his lips move so I rolled down the window.

"Hey, beautiful. Wanna go for a drive?" he drawled.

I smiled at Heero's attempt to sound casual, or a least less stilted than usual. Must have been the bowling that had loosened him up a bit. We had put the play behind us and had gone out earlier in the week for dinner and bowling. 'Ro was good at the sport, as he seemed to be at anything he attempted, and I was okay, so it was a good kind of date. This, however, was to be a romantic getaway, courtesy of Heero's bonus check.

"Ooh, I love a smooth-talking guy with bowling moves. Well, more so than a smooth-talking guy with moving bowels."

His face scrunched up. "That is a terrible pickup line."

"Sorry. How about 'hop in, babe'?"

"Better." He stood, hand on the driver's door and stared. Hard. "I think it is my secret hideaway we are going to."

"Right you are!"

I unlatched my seatbelt and cross-legged it over to the passenger spot, thankful to be both flexible and agile. He tossed a small overnight bag into the back and slipped into the driver's seat, leaned over, and kissed me experimentally. Things were private so I grabbed his neck and pulled him in for a real kiss. God, I felt needy all of a sudden—in need of a good lay. That would have to wait a little longer. He broke away and threw the car into gear.

I glanced into the back seat. "So, I figure you gotcher a change of clothes in there?"

"I packed a bag, just in case you were worth the trouble." His smile was more of a smirk. He kept his eyes straight ahead.

"Uh, huh. I'm worth lots of trouble." I smiled and stretched my legs and arms, giving him a good look at what I had. His eyes left the road and swept over me, stripping me from head to foot.

"Some trouble," he allowed.

We exchanged smiles over that, and to keep up the playful mood I asked, "You're driving us away someplace for the night, right?"

"Yes, for the night and the next day until you tell me you have to get back to the morgue. Sound acceptable to you?"

"Yeah. Can't wait."

"But you will."

While he drove, I searched the floor for a CD, whistling. I was in good spirits and wondered what kind of surprises my sexy boyfriend had in store for me this time.

_Boyfriend_. That sounded nice, so I said it again, in my head, not aloud or 'Ro woulda thought I was crazy. _Boyfriend_. 'Course… 'Ro was one quirky boy to befriend, too. A greeting card designer—no-- an artist who liked to do fun and dangerous things. He also liked to take me out to cool places, so I'd packed a change of clothes and a toothbrush.

And some condoms and lube with unconcealed motive; at least, I hoped I didn't need to make a secret about my feelings, my desire for him. Even though we hadn't repeated our one time fucking experience, with all the effort he was putting into making this outing special, I didn't think he was going to put off another go at it tonight. That had been something. A big deal for both of us. He seemed to be into it, but never tried it again. Or talked about it.

It had been exciting watching him bridle his desires in order to please me longer. But now I really wanted him to take me hard, and _I _wanted _him_. I wanted that intimacy with him that we had been skirting around. And, man, did Heero just ooze sexuality behind the wheel of a car.

What was he expecting from me, I wondered? If I was reading him correctly, and I believed I was, then I would have to help him overcome some anxieties. Maybe I hadn't prepped him good enough, or maybe Ty had hurt him too bad. I dunno, but I hoped letting him drive would help build up his self-image.

He liked driving, that was for sure, and soon we hit the highway. I cracked open my window and let the breeze ruffle my bangs. The evening was markedly cooler than the day had been, and the air was dry with the stars visible and bright as dusk deepened into night.

I took a deep breath. "Winter. It smells like ice; and it's dark already."

"Correct. The first day of winter is only a few weeks away."

"Don't remind me," I said, groaning. "I'm not in the mood for snow."

"No? I thought you would like shoveling walks, slogging trough waist-deep drifts looking for cadavers."

"Uh, uh. Not for me. I like it in the middle, like a lizard. Not too hot, not too cold."

"You said that before, but I see you in front of a fire on a blanket."

Now I did, too. "Yeah...yeah, that would be perfect, if I add you to that picture. Our place, ya know?"

"Maybe. I think our house-hunting plans will have to wait until we see how this little party on Zodiac Island pans out first."

"You think that will happen soon?" I asked.

"Yes."

Okay. "You don't say?" That was his cue to share what he knew about what we'd be doing next on Zodiac Island. Or not. Tap, tap, tap. My fingernails intervened, counting out the seconds. Tippity, tap, tap. He said nothing. Time's up.

I could give him another opportunity to tell me what was up. "Zechs has dropped a few hints at work, when he's graced the place with his presence, but nothing firm's been decided." Hint, hint.

I guess Heero needed to think more about the island intrigue, which was all right. I didn't like to be nagged about things I didn't want to talk about either. I'd get him in a weaker moment, heh, heh…

We rode in silence for a long while. I recognized where we were. Cruisin' the coast road, ocean and fading sunset to the right, forested mountains to the left—what could be better?

"We're staying on the ocean?"

"Not exactly. There are cottages inland that overlook a lake and one in particular should have a very nice view of the moon rising over it tonight."

I liked the sound of that. I glanced over to see 'Ro's profile. His hair rippled slightly in the wind. His lightly-tanned skin shone pale in the dim light from the dashboard, while his shoulders and chest were cast in purpling shadows. His was attractiveness rare in men with his deep blue, Asian eyes, Western nose, and a firm jaw, masculine not beefy.

"This is it."

If Solo had been my summer sun, glowing with health and vigor, then Heero was now my winter moon, partially masked in mists and mystery, imaginative and deadly. The image shook me with its intensity, but I found that the comparison suited him and, on further rumination, didn't disturb me deeply.

He stopped at the office to check in and gather the keys before parking at one of the private log cabins. Inside the cabin was a small kitchenette, already stocked with a few items. I yanked open the curtains covering the expansive picture window and revealed a beautiful panorama.

"Oh, wow. This is cool. I see the moon rising through the trees."

He flopped onto the bed, legs dangling over the end, arms wide, beckoning me to join him. "You can see it from here even better."

I looked him over, but didn't budge. "Fire first."

He tried again. "Come here, love."

"Don't worry. I'm a great and fast fire builder. See? One twist of the valve and a match and presto! Gas fireplaces rock." I wanted my damned romantic fire!

"Duo."

The fire roared and I turned it down to lick at the artificial logs. "Perfect, huh?"

"Not for me." He did look lonely on that bed. He sounded really pathetic, too.

"En route."

This time I moved between his bent legs and looked down my nose at his smiling face. "I'm here."

"Time to sleep?" he asked.

"Why? You tired?" I asked.

"No."

"I'm such a tease." I fluttered my eyelashes at him.

"I am going to get you one day."

"I _know_." I crawled over him a bit and whispered, "And it will be so hot."

He reached up, smoothing my arms with his hands a few times before pulling me down on top on him for a meaningful kiss. He felt solid beneath me and our jeans made raspy noises when our legs moved. After a delicious interlude, I broke away to breathe.

"Undress me," he ordered in a voice gone husky.

Shit, that got me more excited. I licked my lips and he inhaled sharply.

"Starting with my shirt," he continued patiently, leading my hands to the top button, but moving no further. "And I want you to feel every inch of my body," he said.

"You, ah, do?" I asked. This sounded fun.

"Do you want me?" he asked. He was doing a bang-up job of sounding seductive.

"Ya ya ya...yes." While I sounded dopey, I bet. Didn't matter. I had him and me out of our shirts lickety-split.

"All right, um, stop," he said.

"Huh, what?" I asked slightly out of breath.

"I get to do this."

He shoved me backwards, pinning me against the mattress, and attacked me with kisses, nipping, nibbling at my lips, jaw, whatever he could reach. "Oh, god, 'Ro. Do it."

He grabbed my leg and lifted it to the side of his waist. As my hands roamed his back pulling him closer, he thrust into me and knocked the clock radio off the bedside table. It shattered when it fell, the sudden sharp noise making me jump.

"Don't worry about it," he said between kisses along my neck.

"You're… sure?" I was panting and breathless.

"Positive," he said giving me a small bite.

I kissed him full out and his tongue filled my mouth. I felt him press into me harder. His weight was incredible. His hands were incredible. I felt his hands wander from my back all the way down to my ass and give a good firm squeeze. I broke the kiss and he looked like he was kissing the air for a second.

"Um," I moaned. I could feel his hips grinding into mine.

Of course by now our erections were rock solid, and clothing was still in the way. He noticed, too.

"Clothes," he said in a voice more like a gasp.

I pushed him off to the side, no mean trick, and he fell back on his butt. I crawled over him, keeping my head low until it reached his crotch and then slowly licked from his naked waistline up to his neck, sending him writhing and moaning under me. I kissed him with a peck, and then sat up and began to undo his belt.

The look in his eyes was indescribable but amazing. It was like nature took over; we were doing all of this in silence. I undid his belt and slid his pants off, even his underwear. I didn't even think to look down because I was too focused on kissing him. The room was dim anyways and it wasn't a size competition, I just wanted to be with him. My jeans were magically on the floor beside his. Then I felt him reach back and slide down my boxers. I helped him out, kicking them to the ground.

He had one hand behind my head as he kissed me deeply and leaned me back down onto the bed, with him on top. When he started grinding onto me, I felt like I was going to explode.

And then he stopped.

"I-I can't. I am so sorry, Duo, but I… cannot."

"Can't…what?" WHAT!?

He rolled onto his back and threw an arm across his eyes. I could feel his misery spinning off him and entangling me. It had to be bad to interrupt sex with the moon, lake, and fire crackling nearby.

Somehow Heero psyched himself up to take charge and then he can't go through with it because of… what? It had to be Ty Keel. That brutalizer was butting into our bed, uninvited, and there was no way I was doing a threesome with that asshole piece of crap.

"I'm not him. Ty. I'm not going to force you, babe."

He removed the arm and met my eyes. "I…know. It's just…hard."

"Hard while he's in here." I tapped his head. "I can practically feel him pushing me outta the way."

Heero glared over my shoulder. "Push back."

"I'm no shrink, so I don't know any magic words to fix what he did to you, but what I can do is guide you step-by-step through the art of love making."

"I know what to do; you know that."

"Love making. L-O-V-E."

"Sta-ay with me." His voiced cracked.

"Eye's on me, babe. He can't be here, if all you see is me."

He gave me one of his clipped nods for a 'yes', and then he reached over to the night table and grabbed a bottle of lubricant with its seal intact. _So he had thought to bring some, too_, I thought.

He opened it quickly with his mouth (nice trick, 'Ro) and poured a generous amount into the palm of his hand. He then lowered his hand down to the space between us and he began to rub some of the lube into the cleft of my ass, finding the right spot eventually. And then some on himself.

I just lay on my back, retaining eye contact, and letting him explore me first before launching any move of my own. We paused often to appreciate the full moon rising over the lake, and bask in moonbeams shining through the window.

Not that I was the teacher all the time. He was so artful that I never fully realized when we'd traded places and it wasn't me who was directing the action. He made it seem as if I were the primary one choosing positions or actions.

Always so caring. I treasured every moment and discovered all over again how deeply in love I was with him.

I delighted in his reactions; his absolute enjoyment of my every caress and his encouragement for me to try more. I felt that this love making was something we were pretty good at and should enjoy on a more frequent basis.

He was so appealing with his lithe, lean body and hard, smooth muscles, which rippled as I ran my hands over his chest or along his thigh. A night and a morning seemed a short time to lie with him. Parting the next day would be a challenge. Parting to go home alone would be harder still. And it would continue to be until we found a house to share. Together.

I decided, when I was lying awake sometime in the wee hours watching 'Ro breathe, the last of the moonlight painted his resting form in still life, that he was more important to me than anything else, even the morgue.

That pleasant thought eased my mind as I passed back into dreamland.

And the return to reality was slow in coming.

The next day, both of us were floating on a cloud of euphoria. I was certain of his affections and he sure as hell knew I adored him, which was all that mattered at the moment. If we were meant for each other then there would be time later for the telling of future hopes, dreams, and commitments, if. We had slept in late, missed breakfast, and now were weighing the importance of eating over lazing about. Eating required getting up, dressing, and driving for lunch, while lazing required doing practically nothing. I chose lazing, which was an indicator of how infatuated I'd become.

By one in the afternoon, however, I was forced to snap back to reality and declare the 'date' over. We showered, changed, and packed up to leave. "We'll drive a little and stop for lunch. That sound okay to you?"

"Yes," Heero said, sighing.

"Hey, don't look so glum. The week will be over in no time and then you know what?"

"My big début in the art world. All right, I'm packed, but definitely not ready to go. I would like to do it again, soon." His suggestive attitude left no doubts as to what he meant, but he added just in case, "Making love to you by the moonlight is second to none."

"Yeah, I make a place pretty special, don't I?" I laughed on my way out the door.

"You have no idea," I heard him whisper.

Me and him left the cabin wearing shit eating grins. That's when he decided to kiss me openly, in public, right outside the building.

"Are you nuts? Someone might see us!" I said.

"A risk I am willing to take now."

Before I could do anything he leaned in and kissed me. When his lips touched mine softly there was a spark. Like getting hit by lightning! I didn't do anything at first and he was slowly kissing me and I was beginning to feel foolish just standing there. So I started to kiss back. I felt his arm go behind me and hold me close to him as he kissed me passionately. By now it was full on make out and I was beginning to feel like I was going to faint.

I pulled away from him and he took my hand in his. He continued to kiss it frequently. All the way to lunch, and then after when he dropped me at the morgue.

(o)

I took Heero to his art show's grand opening early. It was either that or Relena would have given him a ride and I wanted to be the one he could count on. This meant scheduling the work so I could leave the morgue early, get home, shower, and change clothes before appearing at the Peacecraft residence.

Zechs hadn't shown for work that day, making me suspect he'd gone hunting up more trouble in his attempt to tie all our cases together. He was sly and clever and likely in command of oodles of information I'd be interested in, but not tonight. Tonight, I only wanted 'Ro on my mind.

"'Lo, babe." Man, he looked good in a navy suit and white shirt open casually at the neck.

"Hi." He crushed my lips with a possessive kiss at the door, and so stifled the conversation for a bit. When he let me up for air, it was because his cell phone was buzzing. "Five minute warning."

"Warning for what? Duo's no-air limit?"

The corner of his lips flicked up, then back. "Do I look okay?"

"You'd look okay in sweats. You look great, outstanding in a suit. You'd look arty with a long white scarf draping--"

"No scarf."

I blinked. He sounded so… intense, to put it mildly. I knew then I'd touched on something sensitive. Time for a diversion. "How about me? Do I pass muster?"

"Yes. I didn't know you owned a suit that wasn't black."

"Oh, yeah? Was that a joke, 'cause if it was--?" I didn't get to finish that thought either, but who was I to complain when being gently mauled by my boyfriend?

"Am I done?" I asked.

"I don't know," he said. "Are you?"

"In a word, I am not at all done."

"That's six words," he said.

Ignoring him, I was about to say he needed a flower in his lapel or something when a beep from said boyfriend's irritating cell phone signaled, "Let's go."

We arrived early, as Relena had requested. It gave her a chance to walk Heero around, let him get accustomed to seeing his pieces on the walls. I toured alone. I had to give the lady this much—she sure could give a party.

Dramatic lighting against the glowing carved woods, some wonderful background music, and the posh interior decor made this one elegant exhibit. Prominently posted at the entry in a glass wall case, I found the schedule for the one-week event:

Hiro Yuy-- artist

Saturday

3:00pm Art Show Opens. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Main doors opened

6:00pm Refreshments Bar Opens. . . . . . . . . . . . . Offering full bar and selected wines

7:00pm Art Show Closes. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Main doors closed

Gallery open for viewing Sunday-Friday 12:00 noon to 6:00pm

Saturday

11:00am Art Show Opens. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Main doors opened

12:00pm Refreshments Bar Opens. . . . . . . . . . . . Offering full bar and selected wines

3:45pm Art Show Closes. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Main doors closed

4:oopm Art Pick Up. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Purchased artwork may be picked-up

So official! The opening tonight was exclusively by invitation, and was the only time Heero would be required to attend and mix with the crowd. Relena hoped he'd like it so much that he'd return for the closing sales. I wasn't so sure. Heero really liked his privacy and avoided crowds.

I could see the two of them deep in discussion over the ordering of a few pictures, which from what I could figure, were grouped seasonally. He must have won the argument (Was there any question that he would?) because now he was repositioning floral pictures between "spring" and "summer". I was still standing at the starting point, winter.

Of course, Heero's artwork looked terrific, each card mounted in a frame. Not only the one he had made for me, but hundreds of others, some blown up to poster size and framed to look like the masterpieces they were. Mostly, Relena had chosen his Asian-inspired art to enlarge as focal points for the exhibit. These weren't his favorites, but they were…wow.

You couldn't read what was inside the cards, because the interiors were hidden, something Heero set as a requirement, as my name often appeared in the inscriptions. I thought this was a shame since his poetry was good, but only for a second. A glimmer of gold caught my eye and I looked skywards. Relena had taken the poetic lines and had them printed out in large fancy gold lettering that circled the main showroom. I recognized them at once. I had read and re-read the words many times, committing them to memory.

"_**Can you catch my heart?"**_

"_**Can you win my heart, while you're chasing rainbows?"**_

"_**Don't be fooled into mismatches, limiting your chances for the genuine."**_

"_**Friendship grows, from which sometimes love blossoms"**_

"_**Look again or love escapes your notice. **_

_**Wait too long and it escapes your grasp."**_

"_**You've captured my mind, my heart, my imagination, and yet I feel liberated. **_

_**Hold me and never let me go!"**_

"_**May I be there to share each day's journey and bring you closer to your dreams?"**_

"_**May love bind us through sickness and in health though death do us part."**_

"_**Thrill me, chill me, haunt my heart forever."**_

"_**Adore me, treasure me, never let me go."**_

"Duo?" Heero's voice contained that note of urgency and alarm I hadn't expected so soon. Maybe he just needed to hear some reassurances from me.

I jumped at the sound of his voice in my ear, his hands resting on my shoulders. "Whoa! I musta been in dreamland. What is it, babe? Your stuff looks sensational."

His eyes traced the line of the ceiling. "I didn't say she could use the poetry."

"Yeah, well, we didn't stop her either. When you loaned them to her, you knew she'd open them up and read what you'd written, did you? It's pretty romantic."

"Yes. I wanted her to. I wanted her to know how I felt about you. You don't mind?"

"Her knowing? Hell, no. Saves me the trouble of having to define my territory and lets me gloat."

He nodded, but I could tell something more was bothering him, so I asked, "What else?"

"It exposes us."

Ah, so it did.

He noticed my hesitation and misinterpreted it as anxiety, and added quickly, "I'll put a stop to this whole thing, if you are uncomfortable about that."

Oh, yeah. What with me glued to his side and holding hands, it was clear for whom the words of love were intended. God, it made me so proud that a talent like his included me. I drew him into an embrace and kissed him lightly. He relaxed in my arms and we remained like that a moment before I eased back to say, "Do you know how much it means to me that you don't mind acknowledging us so publicly?"

"You're ready for this? It could hurt your business. You told me that."

"And now I don't care. I figure, once Trowa's my full partner, I can't ask him and Quatre to hide what they've got going. And… I can face those kinds of people now, those obstacles, with your support."

His face lit up. "Then this is all for you-- like a monument to you of how I feel."

Oh, God, what did I ever see in a selfish man like Solo?

Heero and I just stood with my hands on his waist and his on my shoulders with what were probably goofy smiles on our faces, lost in a world we just created, until a discrete cough grounded me again. Relena was watching us, curious about gay men, I assumed. We were just like other men, only not hung up on pleasing women.

I could be polite to her, though, so I dropped my hold and turned her way to acknowledge her existence. "This looks fantastic, 'Lena. You have done a professional job of it."

She beamed approval. "Thank you, Duo. It was a labor of love from beginning to end."

Especially end. Emphasize the "end" part. Oh, and while you're at it, de-emphasize the love.

"It's just too bad I don't have the latest December card."

If she was hunting for it, too bad. Even I hadn't seen it. "Me neither," I confided, "But you have winter pretty well covered."

"I do, don't I? I love how the snow on the cherry blossoms of spring segues perfectly into the winter scenes."

Heero rolled his eyes and reached for my hand. "Want a drink before the doors open?"

"Bar's not open, dude," I said, showing him the schedule and laughing at his irritated expression. "You'll do fine. I'll take you out back the minute you think the masses are moving in on you."

"I hope you mean that," he said.

"I gotcher back always, babe."

We strolled the gallery a few more times, missing the door-opening moment, enjoying the place to ourselves, until we noticed a few well-dressed men and women sauntering by. A little reverb signaled someone was going to use the microphone, and since it wasn't either of us, it had to be our hostess. And there she was.

A hush silenced the throng. Where had all these people come from? Dripping in diamonds, wrapped in silk like filthy rich packages, Heero's customers crushed us into a corner.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen." Relena stood at the podium in the crowded room and proceeded to greet the gathering. "Thank you for joining me today."

"By consistently offering exceptionally high quality art work in a multitude of subject matters and media, specifically created and produced for the Peacecraft Art Shows, we are able to please the diversified tastes of art enthusiasts all over Sanc."

"Let me introduce this week's featured artist. Originally from the Asian community of L1, Mr. Hiro Yuy's work will seem familiar to you, I'm sure, if you have ever been the lucky recipient of one of his exclusive custom cards."

I helped extract Heero from our hiding place and lead him to the podium. I stood near as he shuffled beside Relena to acknowledge the introduction with a simple, "Thank you for coming."

"Mr. Yuy will be here for you to meet and answer your questions," Relena said, smiling continually to make up for Heero's nervous scowl, I guessed. "Anyone who has ever attended a Peacecraft Sponsored Art Show understands the meaning of "The Peacecraft Experience." It is more than a visual show. It touches all of your senses. The feeling you get when viewing the incredible art within the confines of the finest of Sanc's galleries cannot be duplicated anywhere. "

"ALL artwork, purchased or not, must remain in the gallery until closing of the show on Sunday at 3:30 p.m. NO EXCEPTIONS! Special arrangements to pick up purchased art following the art show are available.

"We will be happy to ship most purchased artwork. Please speak to a sales representative at our sales counter during the show for details."

We eventually got our hands on a glass of wine- Heero a bubbly red and me a, ah, bubbly pink. Well, it started out as a dry white wine and I drank half, but then 'Ro didn't like his choice and poured some into my glass and, presto! Pink with bubbles. Which wouldn't have mattered except that Relena gravitated over.

"Where did you get that? I love Chamboix !" she gushed.

"I'll get you one," I said. I could be gallant and, hey, I got the guy. I could be a gracious winner. I turned up the charm and talked the lady pouring the drinks to make up a bubbly pink "for Miss Relena". By the end of the night, everyone was sipping the new Peacecraft Gallery favorite, the "Miss Relena." No one else could remember a name like "Chamboix" either. Heh, heh…I'm so good.

When I first noticed Heero getting a little fidgety, I should have taken him home. That's the cool thing about retrospect—it oozes wisdom. What I thought instead was that he was stretching his comfort barriers damned well and could stretch a bit more.

Relena walked over with a man on her arm. "Heero, I'd like you to meet one of the gallery's more generous donors, Mr. Volpinex."

Mr. Volpinex had apparently been our age when he'd died, several thousand years ago, and in the depths of the pyramid been given this simulacrum of life. The ancient chemists had dyed his flesh a dark, unhealthy tan, and painted his teeth with that cheap, gloss white enamel used in rent-controlled apartments. His black suit was surely some sort of oil by-product. His smile was another.

I looked askance at Heero, who mouthed, "undead."

To cover for him, I extended my hand to shake. "I'm Duo Maxwell of the mortuary fame. How do you do?"

"Yes." His hand was as dry as stranded driftwood and his eyes never left Heero.

"We were wondering, Heero," Relena said to further cover the awkward moment with what had the potential to be even worse, "if you could do something special, for his birthday?"

Heero may be a bit out there at times, creating his own imaginary scenarios, but then there are other times when he can interpret what others say at face value, which he did on this occasion, and act without question.

He peeled a white napkin from a stack on a side table, conjured up his magic pen from the air around us, and proceeded to whip out a sketch.

"Um," Relena said to stop him, "I think he means to order a—"

The animated un-dead creature stopped her. "I want to see this." Naturally, this wouldn't cost him a penny!

On the napkin, there appeared a star with twinkle lines and outlines like hills and a trail of footprints disappearing into the distance. "In winter there's a birthday you're perfect for," Heero said.

I had to lean in close as he printed, "I understand that when you were born—" He flipped open the napkin and jotted, "three wise men left town."

"Here." He handed the napkin Volpinex.

"I am," he said with the smile of a bone grinder, then looked up at Relena for help.

"Honored. Oh, Heero! You gave him an original and for free! How thoughtful!"

This activity drew a crowd and one man looked at the card with interest. "Not bad." He grinned at Heero and rammed a napkin in his direction. "Let's see what you have for me. I own the Marlie dried fruit plant in town."

Heero nodded curtly then got down to it. "Up with the sun and on the run," appeared on the inside of the napkin decorated with a crowing cock on a fencepost by a fruit tree.

The horrified expression on Relena's face was worth the price of admission, believe me, but the fruit man thought it was hilarious and thought he might use it in an ad, with Heero's permission and a contract, of course.

"Hey, Rolly! Come over here." Now we had Mr. Rollings, the owner of Sanc's largest bank, lumbering over.

"Oh, Heero… be nice. He is a very important man." Relena really had desperate supplication down with those watery blue eyes and quivering lip.

"I am nice."

I couldn't have put it better.

Heero's smile had a strange pulled look as he scribbled out another card. This one had a stretch limo on the cover, which read, "I upped my income five percent last year." Inside he finished it off with a pithy, "Up yours."

"Here you are." Heero's smile was positively evil now. "Anyone else?" he asked of Relena, who looked as if she wished they hadn't even started this exercise.

"Lady Dobblemaster!" The Prune man, who seemed to be the most amused of them all, wheeled around a bitter-faced old lady, perhaps the result of a fruit-drier accident. She stared up at Heero from her wheelchair. "Is this the best you can do with your time?" She waved a flabby arm about like a fledgling bird, or… plucked chicken.

"Yes," Heero told her with no elaboration.

He was busy decorating a card with what turned out to be a yawning grave. Nice. Inside, the card said, "Drop in anytime."

I heard a gasp from the withered stick at my elbow, and felt a tug at my sleeve.

"Duo." It was Relena bobbing her head toward the rear exit.

"We still have another half hour," I told her. "Our promise."

"New promise. Take him."

And I would, later. I didn't think she meant right here and now, heh, heh.

Heero seemed pleased with his performance overall and with the outcome, which allowed us an early retirement. He accompanied me out the door with a lift in his step.

"There is one card that isn't on display tonight," he told me, smiling slyly.

I could see the corner of a card peeking from his pocket. "Mine." Of course it was. "For December."

"Follow me for your reward."

I did.

And it was spectacular.

There were other holiday cards on display for the winter. Christmas, naturally, seemed well represented, but mine was white and silvery with glassy glitter like snow on pine branches. It even smelled like pine. "You scented this?" I asked.

He shrugged. "A little. Go on and open it."

The paper was thick, shiny white inside with candy cane striped lettering asking:

"**Will you marry me and free my aching heart?"**

And there I stood, Heero's expectant eyes on me, waiting for an answer. In the distance, the hubbub of Sanc's elite enjoying their drinks and the artwork seemed a world away. Here I had a marriage proposal in my hands, from the love of my life, and I couldn't think of what to say. No words came.

"Duo?"

And now I couldn't even meet his eyes knowing how my hesitation was worrying him. So I said, "No."

* * *

End Chapter 25

**A/N: Would you like a holiday greeting card from Heero and Duo? Go to my profile and email me your email address. That's it. Don't put your email in a review. Never know who might get a hold of it. Thanks!--KS**

TBC in Chapter 26 -- January Cheer part 1


	26. January Cheer, Part 1

**Greeting Cards**

This is an on-going story arc, based on Heero's greeting cards, and updated monthly, at least.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

**Warnings:** AU, male/male pairings, language, some embalming and autopsies topics covered.

A/N: Thanks to Waterlily for her priceless editing and Snow for her generous support.

**Chapter 26 --**

**January Cheer, Part 1**

* * *

I could not have heard him correctly. Duo could not have just said, "No" to my proposal. Not my Duo. Maybe my timing was wrong. We were in an art gallery, which was not a private enough place for discussing private affairs.

Maybe. Or I misheard him. All I could hear now was the pounding in my ears. I wanted the pounding to stop. "Stop!"

"Heero! Hey, babe. Com'ere and sit down with me. Yeah, the bench. Sit. Take a deep breath, okay? Yeah. Geez, you okay? You scared me to death. I thought you were gonna pass out."

There were those earnest, violet-blue looking into mine. He cared. He cared. I know he cared.

"'Ro! Say something, babe."

"You…care."

"Oh, babe, of course. I _love_ you. I love _you_."

"But you said—!"

"I know."

"Do you want to live with me?"

"Yeah," he smiled at me. "I do."

That was better, but confusing. "But you don't want to—?"

He stopped me with a finger to my lips. "Not yet."

"Not…_yet?_" What did _that _mean? "You mean you might want to marry me sometime?"

He nodded. That helped, but God it hurt. He just turned me down! What would I do, _could _I do?

"Why-y?" I hated that my voice cracked, but I was fighting back tears and an emotional breakdown. "I love you and want you so much."

"I know you do. I love you, too." He looked at me in a very unsure way. "You know same-sex marriages aren't sanctioned in Sanc."

"That is not a reason!" How could he think he could get away with a stupid excuse like that? "We could go to L1 and be married there. I am not a fool, Duo."

"I didn't say that was the problem. I was just asking."

"Hn." Did I want to know why he didn't want a commitment with me? I was unsure."

"I was just getting there." He blew his bangs out of his eyes, so I know he was nervous. "Did I ever tell you that Solo had promised me a home and life together, and then he died?"

"No. I'm sorry he hurt you." How could I compete with the dead? Duo's life revolved around the dead, just as mine was haunted by the undead.

"Yeah. He promised me a life together. H-house... future, ya know?"

"But how could he have meant it? He pretended you were just his friend. You shared nothing. He had no intention of following through, it seems to me. I do." I reached out and clasped Duo's arm to hold his attention. I needed that physical connection with him. "I _meant _what I said."

"I know, 'Ro." His voice was so quiet I could hardly hear him. "But you see, my foster parents had promised me a home with them forever, and they died, too."

I nodded, trying to follow his reasoning. Where was he going with this? Was he worried I'd die leaving him alone?

"Marriage is forever, but so's death!" he declared.

"Are you afraid that I will leave you?"

"Uh, maybe," he said in a small voice. "It's not that I'm superstitious or anything. But you know, we haven't known each other that long, when you think about it. There are things about me you just can't be too sure of, ya know?"

Another tangent? I could thoroughly check that concern in the early stages.

"I am sure." I grabbed him by the shoulders to get him to look me in the eyes. "You are my _everything_, my world."

"Oh, God."

Now, what had I said? What was wrong with telling him how important he was to me? This had to be closing in on the real reason for him to have turned down my proposal.

"What?" Tell me, please!

"I can't be your only emotional outlet, 'Ro. I have Hilde to talk to about things, but you have no other close friends. I'm not sure I can be your _everything._ You hurt inside from something terrible that happened to you, and I can't, can't…"

"Free my aching heart?"

"Yeah, I don't know if I can do that."

"I must do that alone?" I do not want to be alone any more.

"I guess not _all_ alone, but… but you're just so intense."

"Focused. It's how I notice details and it helps my drawing. It…bothers you?" How could I change? I was certain I had no control over that part of my personality. My breath hitched. I needed him far more than he needed me. With him I had a chance at a normal life, but then I was not good for him. "I suffocate you."

"No, that's just how you are. I know that," he took both my hands in his and looked into my eyes. I wondered if he knew how gorgeous his eyes were. "I love that about you."

I could see the wheels turning in his head, and then he pulled away again.

"It's just when it's all turned on me, expecting me to be your…everything… and you got some killer dude after you—"

Not another reason!

"Fuck, I killed a man following after you! It's a lot of responsibility to lay on me."

"I see." Not clearly, but I knew I wanted too much. "My problems are too extreme, and you are barely past your own meltdown."

"Well, that's true. I'm not so stable myself. I don't want us using each other for emotional crutches because we can't find the strength to fix our problems."

_Why not,_ I wanted to shout out?

I decided that what he was asking for was more time. He was putting off commitment until our lives were less unpredictable. Structure was important to me as well, so this I could understand. The emotional problems would sort themselves out with time. I needed to latch onto something concrete, something I could pin my hopes on.

"Are you saying we should wait until we get the Zodiac Island problem resolved?" That I could understand.

"At least! Just think, you solve your problems and then maybe I'm not so important any more. Maybe you can travel, do art shows. Who knows?"

_I_ knew!

He had to have noticed how that valuation disappointed me, because now he was holding my hands again. I knew I would feel none of those things. I would always put him first, but I knew better than pile that on him right now.

"It hurts here," I told him, pressing his hand to my heart.

"'Ro, there is no one else in my life. No one better than you. And I can't think that there'd ever be anyone more perfect for me than you. Let's just catch our breaths here. Slow down. Life isn't a race, like 'first to the finish line wins' or anything."

"I understand." I did and I felt the weight of my understanding on my shoulders, cloaking me in a kind of melancholy.

"That's good—great even -- 'cause I wanna go home, my home, your home, somebody's home and make up. You know, make sure we're still on track?"

He wanted sex. I could accommodate that need with pleasure. Ridding my life of Ty Keel and of Solo's ghost would be harder. "All right. Your place."

And then he kissed me. His kiss told me with his words could not – I want you, when the time is right. I tried to put my wishes into my kiss – I want you, too. Still, to lift the gloom, to rid myself of the demon presence, I knew I would have to find help, someone to lean on besides Duo. But who?

(o)

I thought our talk went pretty well. Heero got that we needed more time and some personal growth before revisiting his proposal. He could sure pull stuff out of the blue, and that had blind-sided me.

Marriage? I didn't know anyone who was married. How would that change things? Why go through it? Why spring that on me? God. He was the sexiest man alive and fucking talented. He had paid no attention to the men and women drooling after him at the art show, just doodled hysterically funny little cards. He was so… hugely brilliant at times it terrified me.

Marriage? Total commitment. Speaking of terrifying. Why had he chosen me? The man was an enigma.

I decided not to think about the proposal for awhile and that helped because Heero and I had hot make-up sex. He'd come a long way at mastering the "top" position. I was so worn out, in fact, that I managed to ignore my message machine light blinking earnestly on the table until morning.

After showering, I'd left Heero in the bathroom while I checked the messages and returned the first call.

"Hi, Hil."

"A before-work call? I must really rate these days. Should I be worried? Are you alone?"

"Heero's in the bathroom. Things are cool. What's up?"

"Okay, listen, I just wanted to congratulate Heero on the great art show."

"I'll pass that along."

"He had told me last time we spoke in the coffee shop that it would be a particularly special night for you, too. What do you think he meant by that?"

Oh, God.

"Hil, he proposed but I said no. You see--,"

"**You turned him down?!"**

I wanted to turn _her_ down a couple notches. My ear was ringing from her screech and I wanted to hear again.

"Yeah, but we talked it out and agreed it was best to wait awhile longer. He's cool with it, Hil."

"Duo, you are an idiot if you believe that."

"Not true. He's fine with it."

"Heero has no choice but to be 'fine with it' as you say. It's either that or give you up and the guy would totally shrivel up and die before doing that."

Okay, so he wasn't fine immediately right off, but we talked and worked things out. He wasn't thrilled, but he agreed waiting was the right thing to do. Still, he had been quieter than usual since, I guessed, if I thought about it, hard. Could Hilde be right? I had to think, but it was hard with her doing the thinking for me.

"What did you expect him to do? He capitulated."

He kinda did. Oh, man…

"He told me he understood, and I know he wouldn't lie about that."

"Idiot. I gotta go open the shop. I'll see if I can catch him later and… I don't know what I'll tell him, but I'll explain what a doofus you are."

"Thanks, but that won't be—"

Click. She hung up on me. Ugh. Not a good start to the day.

The next message had been from Mrs. Claremont, inviting us to her home for a New Year's eve afternoon tea. "Both you and you kind friend, Mr. Yuy, are welcome."

I heard Heero padding into the room. "Mrs. Claremont is inviting us over for a New Year's eve afternoon thing. Would you like to go?" I asked.

"That would be nice. Yes."

"I'll call her back, then. Oh yeah, the work is rolling in. Message from Trowa… he'll be in and he's in a pretty good mood. Looks like he and Quatre hit pay dirt."

"He deserves a break."

"He sure does. Um, the pantry is bare. How about I drive us down town for breakfast? I can drop you at the palace or coffee shop."

"Breakfast sounds good."

And that time I noticed that the glimmer was missing in those dark blue eyes, and I knew for certain I was responsible. He was still hurting, logic or not.

"Cool. Let me grab my coat and keys."

There was nothing to do but hope things worked out.

(o)

Trowa showed up at work a couple minutes late.

Endive groaned, not bothering to hide her disappointment. "I thought you might have quit working here when you took that vacation."

"No, in fact, not only am I back," Trowa said, "I'm buying into the business."

"Shit." Endive left without another word, her future resting on my goodwill.

"And she had so much promise," I said with a sigh. "She was hoping to take your place. Little does she know how lofty a spot in my heart you fill."

"Congratulations on the new partnership,'' Zechs said. "I take it the lead panned out financially?"

"Yes," Trowa said with a quick smile. "I can buy half this business now."

"Man, that's great," I told him. "You didn't have to do all that right now, though. I'da given you more time."

"It's a lot of money, but isn't that what you wanted?"

"What I want is a red fire engine and a dump truck." I flashed them all a grin. "Seriously, Tro', how's it feel having more of those memories back?"

"Better. Not having all my memories sucks still, but it's a getting a lot better. I was constantly afraid to lean a bit too far to the left and do a half cartwheel."

"And you couldn't devote full attention to _bon mots_," Zechs added.

"Not to mention the tension involved in facing a girl or guy you've screwed before and convincing them that you've never met them before," I put in.

"God, don't let Quatre hear you say that. He's jealous enough as it is."

"Quat gets jealous?" Was that possible? He never cared that much about me.

"I don't think it will do Mr. Winner any serious harm if he realizes that other people find you attractive." That came from Zechs. "I'm sure it has occurred to him that as carefully as he had engineered their breakup, the moment he d-dropped (I know he meant dumped, but he was being kind) our valued employer, Duo latched onto a rather remarkable artist, who in turn dotes on him. Perhaps he thinks he'd best not take you for granted."

Trowa shook his head. "Could be."

"On a different note," Zechs cut in again, "I'm having a little New Year's party."

"How can you have a little anything?" I asked jokingly. I hadn't meant any double entrendre, but from his surprised expression I felt I had to tag on a bit more. "With you Peacecrafts everything's all-out."

"Is that how you see us?" One elegant eyebrow rose above the other.

"That's how you _are. _Face it, Zechs, slumming with the cadavers hasn't changed you a bit. Deep down inside you are a prince."

That brought a smile to his haughty countenance. "Am I? How kind of you to say. In any case, you are all invited." He passed out fancy-ass invitations to all my employees, and handed me an extra. "For Hilde. Make sure she brings Chang. And you must bring Yuy." He looked at Trowa. "And Winner. We can celebrate your new business arrangement, if you'd like." Zechs smiled faintly. "And in the morning, those of us involved in other matters can discuss what I've learned. That part is imperative, in fact."

(o)

New Year's eve day was busier than necessary. I promise everyone at the morgue that we'd close at noon, and we closed at two-thirty, with more work chilling in the '"keep". My 'Ro was standing on the corner under an awning in the pouring rain waiting for me to pick him up.

"You are late."

"I am sorry and late." I sighed. "We can make it to the Claremont's if I don't stop to buy a bottle of wine to take."

"That is all right. I brought one."

What a gem. "Thanks babe."

We couldn't stay long at the Claremont's if I were to drop off Heero to change and then head over to my place to get in a shower and change before going to the Peacecraft party. So when we walked down from the cemetery parking lot and saw that there was a flow of visitors entering and exiting the door, we were relieved.

"Hello, Mrs. Claremont!"

"Duo, so glad you were able to stop by, oh, and you brought something nice."

Heero handed her the wine. "For you."

She laughed. "And wine, too!"

I enjoyed his quick blush when he realized she was complementing him.

Her husband waved from his recliner. When she handed off the bottle for him to open, he examined the label a moment. "Excellent wine. You didn't find this at the neighborhood market."

Heero smiled. "No." He couldn't be persuaded to reveal the wine's past, but I guessed he'd taken it from the Peacecraft bounty.

Other people passed by, drinks in hand or carrying tiny plates embellished with edibles. The Claremonts, though, gathered us close in.

"We are having a going away party."

"Vacationing?" I hoped.

"No, but maybe later this spring we'll plan that."

"We are giving up the house." He pointed out a young woman in the kitchen. "I'll introduce you to our daughter. She and her husband and kids have bought this house and we are moving to the River Glen Retirement Residence."

I didn't know whether to congratulate them or cry. This had been their home for over forty years, and mine for forty days. "I'm sure you made the right decision, but I bet it was hard."

Heero glided over to light next to Mr. Claremont. "You're leaving your art in the dome?"

"I finished the last piece a week ago. Found homes for the rest. The kids will clean it out. Probably use the place for a play house."

That seemed to amuse the man, which was good. Heero looked about to cry.

I bounced from room to room, meeting the family and spreading my Maxwell brand of good cheer. I hadn't noticed that Heero disappeared until I saw him with Mr. Claremont entering the house from the back door. His expression was I'd classify as… pleased with himself.

"I bought a painting," he told me. "A big one."

"Great. How are we getting it… to where it's going?"

"We took it off the stretchers and rolled it up. It will fit in the van."

I didn't ask how much he paid the old man for it. I could see it was well worth it by the smile it put on Mr. Claremont's face. And after that I couldn't very well run out on the delicious spread they put out, so we stayed for dinner.

Heero became the center of attention when the subject of his art show was brought up by someone recognizing his name. Mrs. Claremont showed off her collection of Yuy cards, and he charmed her by signing them on the back. We couldn't stay to ring in the new year, we just couldn't. We shared a glass of champagne and wished them all well, collected the rolled up painting.

As we trudged back up the hill, Heero gripped my elbow. I guess he remembered my last fall and roll into the bushes. He had a heart of gold, really. We passed the soggy mounds of dirt with rivulets streaming down, converging into a muddy gutter. We climbed practically upstream all the way to the mortuary van.

"It is eight in the evening. Drop me at the corner and I'll walk the rest of the way, then you can go home. You take longer to get ready."

Always thinking of me. "Okay."

(o) New Year's party

The moment I saw Duo at the door, I envisioned him barefoot at the beach, sun-kissed, hair blowing in the breeze, and miles of sand. It was so vivid I thought for a second that we had been transported to the coast.

"'Ro? Can I come in or--? You okay?"

He'd left his hair down, to dry, possibly, but it changed his appearance drastically.

"Yes. Come in. The party is this way, but I thought we could… have a moment alone?"

Oh. His eyes grew impossibly large. He just read what I had said as "sex in my room," and I would have loved that but I really had meant to address him alone. I pulled a sticky pad from my pocket and a pen. A few quick strokes and…

"There!" I pressed a protection charm into his hand. "Keep it on you at all times tonight."

"Ah, sure. Thanks, babe, I'll do that, but I was hoping you were luring me away. A little early in the game; I haven't even had a drink yet, but, hey, I'm not about to pass up an opportunity to get you in the sack—"

My dear Duo could be a little crude at times, but he melted into my arms and accepted my kiss in lieu of more. Of course this was because Chang pushed into us in an attempt to enter.

"I thought I was late," Duo said.

"I didn't want to be the first. We were waiting at the bar," Wufei tilted his head in one direction, "until we saw the morgue van arrive."

"I had to tear him away from the Twilight Zone marathon to come to this party," Hilde shouted at us, "So don't stand there blocking the door and icking him out, okay?"

Duo broke our kiss to greet his friends. "_Ick_ing? We were _making out_, as boyfriends do. I'll bet you and 'Fei go at it like—"

"Not in public," Chang corrected him in his abrupt way.

I gently pulled Duo to the side. "Just a minute," I said and scribbled out another charm

"I want to move," Wufei said. "Winner and Barton are right behind us."

"Please," I said, pushing my charms toward the newcomers. "Keep these with you."

Hilde took one and her boyfriend the other. "Oh, yeah. I know about these. Cool. Thanks, Heero! Demons beware! Bwaha, ha, ha, ha!"

She sent shivers down my spine with that laugh and could probably handle any "demons" on her own.

I could hear more people coming, our friends, so I prepared protection charms for them, too. They arrived wearing comical hats and sporting silly smiles. I think they had come from a string of parties, progressing to this one for the final ringing in of the year. I tore off two more o-fuda.

"Oooooh Fu-uu daaah!" Quatre sang.

He had a nice singing voice, but not that nice. I slapped another one over his mouth, sending him into a fit of giggles. Trowa's voice was better, but he refrained from joining in, he pasted his o-fuda on his forehead and half-carried Quatre inside.

The place was rocking, for an 800 year-old palatial ballroom with stuffy caterers, gigantic glittering chandeliers swaying out of rhythm, and draped in tacky purple and green crepe paper like a house in mourning. There was a bartender and enough drink to intoxicate an army and a dee-jay over-thinking the music.

"I have a few more of these to distribute," I told Duo.

"Go ahead and o-fuda the place to your heart's content. I'll be dancing, so come find me."

It didn't take me but a minute to protect the bar and the sound system and then I located my boyfriend dancing with his drunken ex. While I pondered executing them both, Trowa joined me.

"Wanna dance?" he asked.

"I don't know," I mumbled.

"C'mon. We'll look hot together." He had an arm around me and drew me in. "Give us a chance to talk."

I hadn't danced close to anyone but Duo alone and in his apartment to a CD, so it felt strange with my hands on some other guy's waist. His were on my hips, lower and he would lose them.

"I'm not trying to feel you up," he said. "We have to be close to hear each other talk."

"All right." That explained everything.

The guy was taller than me, more noticeable when we were holding each other close like that. I looked around him and saw Quatre hanging all over Duo.

"Don't worry about them. I give Quatre about twenty more minutes and he'll either puke or pass out."

"Not so nice for Duo."

Trowa shrugged. "Better them than us."

Was he serious? Not likely.

"What I wanted to sound you out on me buying into your sidekick's business. I'm not intruding on what you got going on together."

I never thought he would. "I understand that you are buying into a business partnership, not—"

"Not an engagement, yeah, that's right. But _kind_ of the same thing."

What was he talking about? "A business partnership is not at all the same thing as an engagement."

"They're both commitments, right? That's all I was meaning."

"You do spend a lot of time together," I said. It was true.

"All business. All the time, just so you understand." He smiled at me in a funny way. "I wouldn't start anything."

"Not even over my dead body?" I smiled in an equally funny way and he laughed.

We danced a bit more and I thought about commitments. I could feel a great shadowy demon on my back. I needed to talk to someone about what was bothering me to make it go away, and Duo and I were all talked out on the subject of engagements. I felt I could trust Trowa, since Duo did. He was sharing the mortuary ownership with him and I know how much that meant to Duo.

"Something wrong? Don't worry, I won't pass it along to Duo and Quatre just likes juicy gossip so you can help me make something up to tell him."

"We are not engaged."

"Who? Oh, you and Duo. No? Well, you haven't know each very long, have you?"

"No, well, I think long enough, but he… he said no."

"No-- to what? Oh… you mean you proposed to him?"

I nodded and the demon adjusted itself to one side. I was a little off balanced.

"Duo turned you down, eh?" Trowa moved both hands to my shoulders and began a nice massage. "That sucks. He say why?"

"He had many sensible reasons."

"You're pretty fucked in the head, you know."

I should have beaten his brains out for that, except that I had just made him my best friend and confidante. That, and fact that the demon on my back had crawled onto one shoulder and condensed itself, distracting me a little more. "That's what he said. Do you really think I am?"

"You're in love with that manic so you must be nuts."

Trowa laughed so good naturedly that I joined in.

"I wouldn't worry, though. He'll come around. You just scared the shit out of him and he slammed on the brakes. Let him ruminate about it and then he'll think it was his idea and ask you."

"You think so?"

"Yep."

"Thank you, Trowa. I feel—" What was the word? "Better about it now." Not only better, the demon spread his wings and took flight. The darkness in my heart had lifted.

"Um, you think you could put a little more space between you and my lover, Tro-man?"

"Duo."

Trowa released me slowly. "Depends on what you've done with mine."

"He's in the bathroom emptying his guts. Give him a minute. He'll be good till the countdown after that."

Trowa gave my hand a firm press. "Thanks for the dance, Yuy." He let go of me and ran his finger through his bangs. "Guess I'd best go nurse Quatre. Later, dudes."

"Bye."

Duo was looking at me, smiling. "You're looking pleased with yourself. Having a good time?"

"Yes. He is good to talk to."

"Um…" Duo took me in his arms and teeter-tottered to the music, hardly dancing. "Just keep it to talking, 'kay? I mean, you two looked very sexy together."

"He dances well, but he listens better."

"That's okay then. Hey, I'm kidding ya. I'm glad you and he are buddies."

"Me too," I said and then I felt the need to mash my lips onto his and stay that way for a little bit. He would want me so much no one else would do. He would be crying out for me to make him mine forever and ever.

Unfortunately, a pair of small strong hands peeled us apart and a squeally voice cut through my fantasies.

"It's not midnight yet, silly boys! You have to wait until the ringing in of the New Year!"

"Relena." It was a very good thing that I was not long toting metal, as they say. My reflexes wanted to put her away. Silence her for good. Of course, that would require silver bullets. Bullets like those were above all in short supply.

Duo had taken over and was chatting cheerfully with her about the art show and her dress and her decorations. I want to tear them all down. Shred them so they'd flutter like burial shrouds. Every night in this palace was like a zombie apocalypse.

"Heero!"

"What?!"

"Come along and help me choose something to safe to eat out of all the weird little dolled up crackers."

"Appetizers. You would like them all, but I will accompany you."

We filled the next hour and one half with eating, drinking, talking, and dancing together. We only danced with each other. Quatre, a subdued version with eyes like pickled olives, clung to Trowa the rest of the evening. Trowa appeared to like how things had turned out for him. That was good.

"Everybody! Get a glass of champagne and join me in a toast. The countdown starts in just a few minutes," Relena cried out.

Servants passed out slender, fluted glasses and filled them with pale bubbly drink. Several people chose to make toasts. Zechs wished us all good health; Relena, peace on earth. There was a "good luck in love" and a humorous one about getting rich. I felt a peace settle over my heart. My o-fuda had done the job I had designed them to do. My friends were safe. The protection had expanded to cover all of the party attendees. We were all safe here tonight.

"Ten."

"Nine."

"Eight."

"Seven!"

"Six!"

In the building excitement, the chant grew louder.

"**Five!"**

"**Four!"**

"**Three!"**

"_**Two!"**_

"_**One!**__**Happy New Year!"**_

I liked the Duo in my arms blissfully kissing me in front of everyone. It made it a very good start to the New Year. Trowa and Quatre, Wufei and Hilde, Zechs and his girlfriend Lucretzia Noin, and Relena and her boyfriend du jour all gathered near, breaking open noisy crackers and lighting sparklers.

"This New Year thing is very noisy," I mentioned to Duo.

"Yeah, I guess!" He was grinning and loving all the chaos of the night.

"I made you a card, but I left it in the studio upstairs."

"Oh yeah? Wanna go get it together?"

Not really. "It needs some work, still. But we can leave the party, if you want."

"Yeah. Just let me say g'night to our friends first."

Our friends were staying the night. We were all to meet in the morning and talk over everything we knew about what was going on, on Zodiac Island. I decided to leave it to Zechs to show them to their rooms. He would know what to do.

"Hey, Quat, Tro! Hil? We're heading out, er, up, so good night and see you in the morning, late."

"Tell us a joke," Quatre insisted in that way of his, but rather endearing with his unsure delivery. "Just one. Before… you go."

Duo scratched his head, "Okay, lemme think… Got one. Who was the largest knight at Sir Author's round table?"

No one offered an answer, so Duo said, "Sir Cumfrance ("circumference"), because he ate too much pie. Heh, heh--"

"I thought it was because he avoided running 'round _half _c-cocked," Quatre said, and then he hiccupped, which made us all laugh.

Trowa pulled Zechs aside and, I think, received his directions to a room for closeting away his boyfriend. Wufei and Hilde appeared to be thinking in the same vein, as they moved to the staircase.

* * *

End Chapter 26

TBC in Chapter 27 -- January Cheer, part 2


	27. January Cheer, Part 2

**Greeting Cards**

This is an on-going story arc, based on Heero's greeting cards, and updated monthly, at least.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

A/N: Thanks go to the delightful WaterLily for editing the chapter and encouraging me.

**Warnings:** AU, male/male pairings, language, some embalming and autopsies topics covered.

**Chapter 27 --**

**January Cheer, Part 2**

* * *

Zechs called us to breakfast earlier than we, or at least I, had expected. The start of a new year should be taken gradually and in small samples, starting at about the midpoint, not before ten, for sure. Nine-thirty brought a maid to our room, signaling the master's summons to the table with curtains flung open, sending sunlight streaming in my eyes, and a tray of hot coffee on a side table.

"Go'way."

Coffee was a start. One burning gulp was allowed, and then Heero dragged me to the shower. Suds and sex in the shower put me in a relaxed "wanting to return to dreamland" sort of mood, and was just about the finish of me. The stinging slap on the ass delivered a shock to my system-- a real eye-opener when delivered by Heero. He was strong.

"We can surprise everyone and be on time."

Like I cared what "everyone" thought, but I did care what my punctual lover thought about me, so I cooperated.

Once we were dressed and out into the hallway, the odor of sizzling bacon wafting up the stairs gave me a reason to lengthen my stride and quick-step it to the dining room. Quatre and Trowa were filling plates at the buffet. Wufei was buttering his toast and seated next to Hilde, who looked bright-eyed over at me like a crow ogling a scrap of hamburger.

"Good morning!" she chortled. "Isn't this nice?"

"Is it?" I muttered. One sip of coffee was not doing it for me.

Quatre warmed to her early-morning exuberance just to antagonize me, or not. "It looks like a lovely start to the new year. Zechs, the deviled eggs with caviar are spectacular. I was wondering if I might have the recipe?"

"Certainly." The prince turned to one of his minions and asked, or ordered politely, "Would you please see to it that the head chief provides Mr. Winner with the appropriate recipe?"

I myself loaded a plate with a waffle topped with eggs ham and cheese. I steered clear of the eggs topped with bitty, shiny, black-seed things. Eggs-with-eggs was a nasty little extravagance I could do without.

If there was further conversation, I didn't hear it over the sound of my munching. I went back for seconds. This time I went with the waffle, which was excellent, topped with fruit and whipped cream, like dessert. Maybe I could learn to make waffles?

The coffee was fresh and my cup refilled before I was near to emptying it. Not as good as Quarter had once served me. That had been virtually black syrup. Hmm.

"Are you all right?" Heero voice sounded concern-filled, but when I caught his bemused expression I knew he was joking with me.

"Breakfast of champions." That was Trowa, always the retired, or retiring, clown.

"What's so interesting about my meal?" For some reason I was the center of attention. It was just food, after all!

"Nothing," Wufei snapped his napkin crisply and folded it on his plate. "Except we are all done and waiting for you."

Stabbing my fork at Zechs like Heero doing his pointy painting to get his attention, I directed him to move on and not wait. "Go on, go on. I can eat and listen at the same time. Call it multitalented."

"It's impolite of us," Quatre said.

_Geez, what a nitpicker._ "Not if I say it's okay."

"Very well."

I expected his honor to launch into his speech and get right down to business, but instead he pulled out a notebook and scanned the pages. I shoved the last of the waffle in my mouth and chewed.

"Duo, turn this way."

I rotated my head in perfect compliance with my boyfriend's wishes, and he moved closer. I wondered if he was about to kiss me in front of everyone, which would have been rather bold for him, when his tongue darted out and licked my lips, thoroughly cleaning off the errant whipped cream.

As I melted into what would have been a hot kiss, Wufei made a scornful noise and growled "romance," putting a real chill in the air.

Trowa chuckled and said something to Quatre about bringing him a bowl of whipped cream that ended with "cream slut"-- possibly I misheard. That all ended in a tussle I missed because I didn't care. Heero could put me in this floaty state of euphoria.

"Now that everyone has eaten," Zechs intoned like a funeral dirge, putting the quietus on the entire occasion, "I shall begin with an explanation of what I know as fact."

He had a finger in his notebook and the book was thick with used pages, which I took to mean that his explanation would take awhile. Oh, joy.

"This begins at the Zodiac Island Penitentiary and Asylum, called OZ for Outpost Zodiac. Despite what I am going to tell you, OZ is a legal government institution. GeneralTreize Khushrenada is the OZ head officer."

"So he's the one responsible for what 'Ro and I saw going on there?"

"If there is a secret project forcing the staff doctors to use inmates as test subjects for some 'perfect soldier' experiment, then the orders come from much higher up. They must be sanctioned by Duke Dermail himself."

_Sure…_ "You know a lot about this hierarchy stuff. Where do you fit in?"

_Mistake. _I had asked him about his role and was about to get his life history. When would I learn to keep my mouth shut? I seriously considered getting up for another waffle to fill the time, but the feel of 'Ro's hand on my leg stilled me.

"Nice," I whispered. If he left the hand in place, I would remain glued to the edge of my chair.

"I was born Milliardo Peacecraft, son of the pacifist Peacecraft family who adopted Relena after the murder of her parents. Later, I became a soldier to seek revenge for my parents' murder and changed my name to hide my identity."

"Khushrenada was my superior officer and I rose through the ranks quickly to become his protégé. He was an honorable man, until he was posted to Zodiac Island and put in charge of OZ. There, I discovered that he was releasing inmates, often men from the testing center, to a man named Dekim Barton."

Trowa tried to ignore that all eyes had shot his way. Since he and this Dekim fellow shared the same last name, it was only assumed they shared something else, history perhaps? We knew how the man had died, and it hadn't been pretty.

Trowa's tongue had been toying with a toothpick, rotating it around and around. It was going faster now, so I could just imagine how uncomfortable he was. I focused on folding my napkin, instead.

"I was curious about the setup, and looked into Barton's connections. I discovered that OZ was supplying him with essentially paid killers. Barton was using the mercenaries to carry out missions too dirty for the Sanc armed forces."

"Do you have concrete evidence of those mercenary missions?" Wufei asked, fingers poised over his data entry device.

Actually, it looked like a cool toy and I would have liked to get my hands on it. Heero, too, appeared enamored of it. His fingers twitched just itching to fondle it.

"Yes, I'll see that you get copies."

"Yeah, so what did you do about it?" That was Hilde, who I guessed was getting bored already with the narration.

"I became disillusioned, and eventually sought a change of assignment. I'm on military standby, now, but I've essentially quit."

"That's it?" Hilde asked.

I think she was getting ready to stand. Foolish girl. From experience, I knew this dude was just warming up.

"No, there's more." Zechs looked down at her expectant face and smiled. Ah, but if _noblesse oblige, _then the prince must do more. I just loved his condescending smile, when it wasn't directed at me. "Prior to my leaving, there was an unfortunate series of incidents in which I became more than an inactive observer. It began when I attended an official function and met a charming woman who was slightly older. Age didn't matter. I fell in love instantly. I didn't know she was promised to another."

"That's sad. What happened to her?" Hilde asked.

"Can't be good." Trowa was turning into a chatty guy.

"She was the daughter of Dekim Barton--,"

"Leia!" Trowa shouted. "Leia Barton! I knew her." Shocked at his own outburst, I bet, Trowa retreated into a glum silence.

"That is correct. Leia was 'promised in trade' to my superior officer for his cooperation."

"God-awful men." Hilde sniffed in disgust. I think Wufei's hands moved to cover his crotch. I didn't look, but the movement suggested immediate protection of vital parts. "I'll just bet Khushrenada found out about your affair."

Heero actually moved to grab the forgotten data input toy. I think he would have absconded with it had we been seated any closer. It's owner, however, nabbed it back up protectively

"Yes, she had become pregnant. When it was determined that I was the father, I was re-assigned overseas on a mission with the expectation that I would be killed."

"And Leia?"

"She was banished to OZ prison and gave birth to a daughter of her own, Mariemaia."

Trowa and I shared heavy expressions, and I said, "The dead girl," and he said, "Mariemaia," and his eyes glazed over.

"I knew her at school," Trowa commented further. "Same time as I first met Quatre."

"Is there a picture of her? Maybe I knew her?" Quatre smiled sympathetically.

Trowa and I exchanged mental pictures over the airwaves. _Autopsy photos?_

"Ah," I said.

"Not to my knowledge, but--" he answered. He appeared to drift away, chin in hand, for a moment. "But," he drawled, his eyes half-hidden by that shock of bangs, "I do remember giving her that knife."

That lit a sparkler under Wufei's ass. "Knife?"

"The White Fang one?" Quatre asked breathlessly. "When did you do that?"

"At the school, I think, for her to fight off attackers." He leaned back. "I thought they were imaginary. She seemed like a paranoid ditz. I can't recall any details, just giving her the knife, thinking she'd give it back in a day or so, and forgetting about it. It's mostly incomplete."

I could see a hint of anguish and a frown, which he hid as he titled his chin down. "It's almost there. The memories are just…out of reach."

"I'm so sorry," Quatre crooned. "It must be terribly frustrating for you."

Well, duh. I understood that his brain was fussy on the details. Well, whose wasn't? Just ask any cop and he'll tell you about the unreliability of witnesses' memories. Wufei, for instance, snorted.

"What do you remember about your childhood?" Zechs asked Trowa directly with none of Quatre's _simpatico_ nonsense.

Trowa met Zechs gaze. "You have known all along that I was born in the labs of OZ, haven't you?"

His honor, I think, was taken aback by his directness and had the decency to admit what he knew.

"I have had to consolidate what few facts I knew first. Learning your birth name most recently was the most helpful. I learned that your parents were both chemists, who wanted no part of the secret work, and were murdered in order to silence them."

Quatre, bless his sympathetic-to-a-fault soul, grabbed at his boyfriend and started blubbering tearful platitudes. That was not what Tro' needed, he needed a pal.

"Hey." I elbowed Heero.

Heero removed his hand from my leg. He had been groping ever northward, so I imagined he thought I was warning him about that, but I was wrong. He had been following the conversation and inferred from his behavior that Trowa needed to escape the embarrassing situation. _But would he know what he should do for his new best friend,_ I wondered?

"I should take him away?" he asked uncertainly.

"Go for it."

Wufei must have had a similar idea, because he was out of his chair and moving in that direction, but Heero, being the closer, got to him first and walked him out of the room. I took hold of Hilde under the pretense of having something of imminent interest to share and led her away. I was not getting stuck talking with Quatre, not now. This left Quatre and Wufei staring at one another.

"We may as well take a break," Zechs decided a little belatedly.

(o)

I sensed Trowa would like to be apart from the others, so I offered him what I had. "My studio's upstairs. Would you--?"

"Yes."

"All right," I said to him and smiled a little.

He followed a step behind up the stairs, down the hall, and to the door. I opened it and entered, watching his reactions as he went inside. He centered himself in front of one of my framed cards. It required some explanation.

"The front of the card," I said, "with no illustration, says, 'Things ain't been the same since you went away.'"

The entire inside, which was framed, left and right panels, was covered with a drawing of an old house bursting with a huge party: fireworks sparking over the roof, half-naked people of both sexes hanging out of windows, a beer keg on the lawn, etc…

"Bon Voyage… let the party begin? Wicked sense of humor, Yuy."

"It was an outlet for my…dark side."

"And you have a vast dark side, haven't you?"

"That is something you and I have in common."

"Interesting," Trowa slung himself onto one the club chairs and stretched out his legs, using the leather ottoman I preferred. "Quatre said something like that, but he was including Maxwell. You know he has some empathic abilities."

Duo? Of course not, he had meant Winner. "Duo thought he could read your mind—"

"_Mine _my brain for memories? Hn. He works more on the emotional level."

It didn't take an empath to decode Trowa's body language and see that he was upset. He was trying to relax, but like a sprung spring, his legs retracted and he bounded up.

"That bastard!"

"You must mean Zechs."

"Who else? I don't get it. Why me? Why hunt me down and then keep what he knows from me? Why wait this long? I just don't get any of this!"

"I used to believe the man and his step-sister were vampires." I met his eyes as his expression changed from enraged to disoriented. "But now I am less sure, although I am nearly positive he commands an undead army."

We stared at one another. He measuring me; I preparing to block his punch.

He laughed. "You may be right about him. Damn he infuriates me. It just defies logic!"

"Maybe he knows less than we think."

His arm cut the air, rejecting that idea. "The money I'm using to buy into Duo's business, did he tell you where it's coming from?"

"No."

He briefly gave me the outline of his trip with Quatre, and then added, "There was an account, my inheritance, from a benefactor by the name of Dekim Barton, and Zechs knew enough give me that lead—just before we left."

I shook my head. "I don't get it. You must have forgotten you had it."

"I don't think I ever was told about it."

Trowa went on to tell me the story of his life made up of scenes as phantasmagorical as any of those in my mind.

"A mysterious Doctor S dumped me at the circus by under the name 'Triton Bloom.' In theory, the place was chosen because my only living relative, Catherine Bloom, a cousin, was a performer there. This doctor told the circus manager that my parents had died accidentally on Zodiac Island when an experiment exploded. He left me with some clothes and a knife. The circus manager assumed it was a keepsake from my father and it stayed with me all the while I stayed there. Apparently he was paid a substantial amount of money for my care and later my education, but I don't recall being informed I had any inheritance."

"You had a lot to absorb on your trip. Having Quatre there helped?"

"Yeah," he said softly and his face softened. He was in love with Winner! It made me wonder if my feelings were so obvious, but then I decided it didn't matter.

"He really came through for me. And, yeah, it was a lot for me to take in. I had dreams that night and woke up with all these memories flooding back. I was Triton Bloom, meeting a woman named Leia Barton from the OZ Asylum hospital, where she was a volunteer nurse. The circus was shut down for rest and repairs in its winter camp. I was doing high school work-study at Voyate Laboratories, and was a delivery boy with some supplies to drop. Leia sought me out, actually, after learning that she had a younger stepbrother. Me. She told me I was listed as the adopted son of Dekim Barton. His son, Trowa, had died for 'the cause'. I didn't understand what that cause was."

I wondered how many people were aware of "the cause" they died for. "You said you were born there on Zodiac Island."

"I guess."

Now he seemed reticent to talk. Maybe it would help if I told him something in confidence.

"I lived there, too. Off and on."

"No shit. And we never met? That's hard to believe."

"I agree. Your connection with Voyate and the island cannot be coincidental."

He was nodding and I thought he might agree, when he suddenly stopped, riveting me in place with one shot from his only visible green eye.

"Have you thought of something more?" I prompted him.

"I don't know, but it just occurred to me that Quatre said he was born in a lab himself. He and his sisters. I don't know if there's a relationship there to Zodiac Island or not. He didn't tell me where the lab was."

"The Winner Corporation probably owns dozens," I said.

"Yeah." He shrugged and sat again, looking far more relaxed than when he came in. He seemed to have run out of personal revelations and changed the subject. "So tell me about what you do in here. Is that one of your latest cards?"

It was my New Year's card for Duo, my second attempt. I had destroyed the first one, since I had based its premise on his acceptance of my proposal. I explained this to Trowa, then added, "I have no idea what to write in it now."

"I see that. You've drawn a blank." Trowa shot me a crooked smile.

"Oh," I groaned belatedly getting the pun at last. "Terrible."

"Yeah, a wasted youth in the circus does that to a person." He picked up the card and studied it. "Fireworks? Just make it short and about sex and he'll be crazy about it. Like: 'These are nothing compared to what I see after a roll with you.'"

"That's good. You are right about him. He appreciates my poetry, but he likes it light, too_." And less intense sounding all around_. "You mind if I use that line?"

"Small charge."

"What would you like?"

"A Valentine card I can give to Quatre. A special one he'll remember."

"I can do that, for my best friend." I fought back a blush and smiled, and he smiled back. "Deal."

"I'm getting the better deal, dude."

"It would not have gone well if Duo had found this blank card. He would think I was mad at him."

"You sorta are."

Ouch! That was true. "I am learning to share my…troubles with others, ah, you."

Trowa smiled. "I get it. You can dump on me anytime."

"Thanks," I mumbled. I imagined he was becoming as uncomfortable as I was with the sudden bonding.

"So where did you study art? Your training must have taken a long time."

"An L1 Academy, but only a short time. I am actually a trained assassin, but only Duo knows—and now you. I told him last October."

"God damn."

I think I impressed Barton at last.

"Remind me not to make you mad."

"I will."

"I'll leave you to your lettering then," he said. His excuse was to find out what Quatre was up to. "When I'm not looking, he buys up circuses and installs my cousin in charge of them."

I thought he was joking, but then he had an edge to his voice that told me he was serious.

"He did that?" I asked to be sure.

"Yes. Yes, he did. Later, dude."

(o)

I walked I knew not where, letting Hilde lead me, until she parked herself in a room with windows opening into a courtyard. She spun on a heel and jabbed a finger in my face.

"Have you changed your mind about Heero's proposal yet?"

"Huh? No! That's none of your busybody business."

"I've been trying to get his side of the story, but he's suddenly absented himself from the coffee shop, where for the last year or so he's been like the artist in residence."

I thought I'd just missed him the last couple days. It had just been a couple days. "He hasn't shown up at all?"

"Not the usual schedule and you know he programs his days to the minute and behaves rather predictably; that is, up until you pulled the proverbial rug out from under him."

I decided never again to discuss my personal life with her. "He's fine. We're fine, if you keep your nose out of it we will continue to be fine. He's talking to Trowa. Did you see? If there's any guy that can normalize him some, it's Tro'. Hey, I'm not so perfectly balanced myself, coming off, you know--,"

"Solo, yeah. That left you a mess. But Heero is nothing like him."

"He's not, true, but both shared an intensity that—"

"That's got you spooked. I knew it! I knew you'd be hiding behind some dumbshit excuse for what's really eating you."

"Nothing is eating me." I could be defiant.

"A commitment to a person, a living, breathing, needy person. Not to that land of the dead you purvey, but to someone who would share your life. The dead don't demand a damn thing of you, but Heero would, and you are terrified of living up to that."

I pivoted 360 degrees and hustled to the door. I didn't have to take that from anybody. My life was mine, good or bad. She had no right to analyze me, judge me—even if what she concluded was right, which it wasn't. Much. She didn't know how focused and dependent Heero could be, or she'd be more supportive. I could use the support.

"Yeah, you'd better run and hide. Ooh! Better than that, go find your boyfriend. He and Trowa looked pretty hot together last night. Wouldn't be hard for Heero to get used to an acrobat, one that has got to be tired of Quat's demands by now. Bet Trowa wouldn't turn down Heero!"

I just barely caught that last bit since I'd already left her in my dust on my way out. I did not need to add jealousy to my list of faults and I really didn't want to start having doubts about my boyfriend's faithfulness—or my new business partner's loyalty. It wouldn't hurt to find him, though, and see how he was doing soothing Trowa. Not soothing, ah, comforting. No no no-- offering him _support_.

I took a turn, spotted a half-open door, and barged into the library; at least, that's what I'd call a room lined wall-to-wall and ceiling-to-floor with polished wood bookcases brimming with musty old volumes. What was remarkable, at least to me, was to find Quatre and Wufei bonding over books. Each man had a thick tome in hand. Other than bashing one another over the head with the things, I couldn't imagine what they'd been doing with the books before I burst in on them.

"Duo?" Quatre asked. "Are you okay? You look flushed."

"A reaction to overfilling his stomach," was Wufei's determination.

I was in no mood to be provoked further. "Sorry, wrong room. Carry on like I hadn't been here."

Quatre moved faster than light to cut me off. "It's okay. We were reading favorite passages from Shakespeare. Would you like to join us?"

Not on your life. "Er, ah, no thanks. Looking for the john. Later, maybe." As an afterthought, I asked, "Um Fei'? You wouldn't have that little typing device on you, would you? I was wondering if I might get a look at it."

"The datatron? Yes, but it contains top secret information. I'm afraid I can't show it to you."

"Oh. Well. Okay. Bye."

Geez, where did a man have to go to find a little solitude? Or his boyfriend? Food? Yeah, food. I knew where they served that.

(o)

After the break, Trowa was in the mood to face Zechs again, and I wanted more tea. We descended the staircase and discovered the others appeared to have the same idea.

"Mass migration to the watering hole," Trowa murmured in my ear.

"Yeah," I chuckled.

When I looked up to catch his quick smile, I observed Duo standing at the sideboard, his brow puckered and mouth pressed into a thin line. I could have drawn him and titled the picture "distressed," so I left off my tea making. Trowa passed me to greet Quatre at the coffee urn, and I aimed for my lover.

"Duo, are you all right?"

"Why's everybody asking if I'm okay? I'm freaking fine. Perfecto."

"You looked distressed."

"I'm not. I just wasn't smiling."

He was not looking at me, either. I traced a line in the direction he was looking: the coffee urn.

"Would you like me to get you some coffee?"

"No, and if I did, I could get it myself," he said mulishly.

I could sense a disturbance in the force.

"You are angry at me. Tell me, what did I do?"

"I'm not—" His mouth snapped shut and he ran both hands over his face and through his hair. "Ah, shit. Sorry, 'Ro. Hilde messed with my head, that's all. You didn't do nothing."

His eyes swept the room again. I thought he might be worried about Trowa. I should set his mind at ease, I decided.

"Trowa and I had a productive conversation. We have more in common than I had guessed."

"Oh?"

I couldn't understand the expression Duo was wearing now at all.

"We both lived on Zodiac Island at one time. I think it is peculiar that we never saw one another there."

"Wouldn't that have been chummy?"

Another shockwave convulsed through the force. It sounded to me as if he disapproved of my new friendship with Trowa. But he had encouraged me!

"What do you mean? Do you not want me to befriend Trowa?"

His face blanched, which was a tell-tale sign that I had been correct or close to the truth.

"No, you can be friends. 'S cool."

For some reason, he needed reassurance of my devotion. I blamed Hilde for messing with his head and would have to set her straight later. He was mine to mess with. Now, it was my duty and privilege as his boyfriend to alleviate his insecurities.

I slid a cream-filled, strawberry glazed pastry onto a plate and carried it to him. "Do you like these?" I asked.

"Maybe," he said.

Try as he might, he couldn't disguise his interest from me. He may have been determined not to be bought off, but I was more determined that he would allow me to. Remembering how much he enjoyed the earlier whipped cream incident, I made a bold move.

"This can be yours," I whispered, "for a kiss."

"For a—" He looked interested, and then he looked askance and his eyes skimmed the room, returning to me. "But Zech and Wufei--?"

We stared at one another a moment, and then I felt the force collapse in on us, and my arms were filled with Duo. I nearly dropped the plate of bribe in the process. His tongue brushed my lips seconds before his mouth crushed onto mine. He had me at a slight disadvantage because of his height and the plate; I was an arm short. He worked an arm around my neck and fingers into my hair. Another arm gripped my belt. A knee parted my thighs and wedged there.

"I'll take that," Zechs' voice growled, and then I felt the plate lift up and away. "Lest it end up on the floor."

With my hand freed, I sought out that length of braid I loved and wrapped it around my wrist.

"Hey! That's attached to me--!"

I yanked his head back and attacked his neck, nipping and biting, his moans and hollers turning to giggles and laughter when I tickled his sides with a few pokes. That broke us apart pretty quick. As he wiped the tears from his eyes, still chuckling, I laughed, too, and straightened my shirt. Around us, our friends were cheering, shouting for "more!" or telling us to "get a room" or complaining about our disgusting behavior. Inappropriate, I would have to agree, but not disgusting.

Duo retrieved his treat from Zechs, after the man made us issue an apology to everyone in the room. He ate it noisily while we all resumed our seats around the table. Trowa was ready to start where we had left off. So was I, but I had no idea how our lives would be changed by what was to be revealed.

I missed that next disruption in the force.

* * *

End Chapter 27

TBC in Chapter 28 -- January Cheer, part 3


	28. January Cheer, Part 3

**Greeting Cards**

This is an on-going story arc, based on Heero's greeting cards, and updated monthly, at least.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

A/N: Thanks go to the kind WaterLily for editing the chapter and encouraging me, and Snow for being there when I need her.

**Warnings:** AU, male/male pairings, language, some embalming and autopsies topics covered.

**Chapter 28 --**

**January Cheer, Part 3**

* * *

I felt rather foolish for acting like an ass to Heero. _How could I have doubted him? Him! I don't deserve a guy like him._ I felt like banging my head against the table in order to forget what I'd done, or punish myself or something stupid. He and I needed to talk, and not about us. Just go out and have fun and talk about stuff not relevant to our feelings or our future or our past for that matter.

Hilde was the one I needed to set straight, but she was in such a mood everything "Duo" set her off. I was fuse and anything I _said_ was the ignition. Put us together and watch out. Exploding Hilde!

Which made me think of all the work literally stacking up. Andres and Endive had their tasks, but they were severely limited in how much they could take in. I had two funerals to conduct this week and here I was sitting around listening to… not listening to... the prince.

Thankfully, I managed to miss Zechs' brilliant recap of the Dekim Barton story, catching on as he began the new material.

"From what I learned as part of the White Fang, Barton was despondent over General Khushrenada's treatment of Leia and joined the organization to destroy OZ.

"And White Fang is _what _exactly?" Hilde asked. "I take it you don't mean a big ivory tooth, right? And I want to hear from Zechs, not you, Duo."

Tick, tick, tick… The joke fell flatter than the Peacecrafts' giant screen TV.

"The White Fang clan was established to counter the evil activity of OZ. they call themselves a clan but they are more of a quasi-military organization. Barton brought his band of mercenaries and joined to get revenge for Khushrenada locking away his daughter, and was secretly gathering evidence to use against OZ at the time of his death."

The Preventers agent, Wufei Chang, had been sitting quietly up to this point, jotting notes into his hand-held electronic device, his datatron, and listening. He spoke up now.

"And that's where the knife originated? The one confiscated from the burned out car as evidence in a murder?"

"The one I found," I pointed out. "That ought to be there in your notes. Want me to check?" My hand offered to relieve him of his device.

"No."

And I swear he would have pulled a gun on me to keep my greasy little fingers off his valuable toy. Asshole. Evil little dataron.

"He doesn't need your help, Duo!" incendiary Hil informed me.

Ooh, burn! I decided to keep a low profile and let Trowa take center stage after that.

"Duo is correct. He found the dagger with White Fang origins," Zechs replied.

"Shut up a second," Trowa said, pressing his hands to his head. "I remember something. That knife… I met Leia; we were talking, but I'm not sure when. She asked me if I still had a fancy knife. I didn't get what all Leia was trying to tell me, which makes the memory harder to pin down, but I think she told me that the knife came from her father. It was so her 'soldier-prince' would know me. I'll bet she meant you."

"Yes." Zechs dipped his chin slightly. His long, silky hair swept forward, whisper-quiet, shimmering in the light of the crystal chandelier overhead. I wondered if the nobility practiced their moves to look more elegant.

"In the last letter I received from Leia," he continued with another easy motion to whirl his mane back in place, "she beseeched me to take care of our daughter and look out for her step-brother Triton Bloom. I would know him by his ceremonial blade. Naturally, I tried to locate Mariemaia on several occasions, but Khushrenada had her well hidden away, going so far as to call her his offspring and giving her his name. I had never heard of any step-brother; she'd never mentioned you before."

Wufei stopped that infernal typing and cleared his throat. "I am having a difficulty working out the time frame for all this to happen. The facts aren't clear to me. Let's say that Dekim Barton passed his White Fang knife on to Leia. He must have had great faith in her judgment to trust that you would come to his aid. He had to trust your abilities, Merquise, to could track down a child that was not his and care for him. Why should he choose a child whose parents had died to pass on the knife?"

"My parents must have had White Fang connections," Trowa said.

"And then so must have this Doctor S. He was part of the plan; made certain the knife was passed on, the boy settled in. He probably set up the bank accounts. White Fang seems to have a large network inside the OZ facilities on Zodiac Island."

"Trowa," I put in, "tell them what you told me, about the dream you had with Leia in it."

"Dreams or memories flooding back," he said pointedly in Wufei's direction should the agent doubt the validity of his words. "The circus was shut down for repairs in its winter camp, and I was in a high school work-study program at Voyate Laboratories as a delivery boy. I dropped some supplies at the OZ Asylum hospital every day. Once, I met a volunteer nurse named Leia Barton. Leia sought me out, actually, after learning that she had a younger stepbrother with my name, Triton Bloom. She told me I was the adopted son of a man named Dekim Barton. That's when she asked about the knife, if I still had it. And… that's all I can piece together."

"So you were, what, fourteen or so?" Wufei checked his notes.

I could have done that, if I had a nifty little hand-held like he did. I wondered how much a datatron would cost. A new business expense? Could that work? Sure it could. I'm sure my smile was disarming, because Wufei flinched when he looked up.

Zechs nodded. "That would coincide with the death of Dekim's son, Trowa Barton. All I know is that he had died for 'the cause' in a shooting incident."

"How did you get his name?" Hilde asked.

Trowa shook his head. "Catherine said she was surprised to find out that my named had changed after my accident. That was why it took so long for her to locate me."

"I doubt Dekim Barton thought that Triton Bloom would be renamed after his long dead son, Trowa Barton." Wufei leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling. "Someone changed it when you were at the hospital. Someone who knew everything about you."

"Friend or foe?"

"Foe," Zechs said. "Here's what I believe. Khushrenada tried to kill Triton Bloom after discovering he had been in touch with Leia. The man was afraid Leia had told Triton the family secrets. As we know, he survived the murder attempt. Someone must have interfered and he ended up being rushed to the hospital under a new name. Even supplied with a fake birth certificate when it was discovered that he had survived, but lost his memory. We know it was an enemy because of the name chosen. It's a warning. The real Trowa Barton had been killed, and this one nearly."

"The problem is that Dekim didn't get the message and we know how he met his end. Leia—I'd like to investigate what happened to her. I'm certain she is dead. Her daughter… we know is dead also."

"What about your cousin? You don't suppose she had anything to do with--?" Hilde began.

"No," both Zechs and Trowa said simultaneously.

"Catherine Bloom doesn't know anything about Dekim's past activities or Khushrenada's. She was too young to know what had happened when Trowa was first brought to the circus."

"She really isn't a part of this," Quatre agreed. "I would have sensed it when we met."

"Would you care to explain how you have come into so much inside information, in particular, that pertaining to the White Fang?" Wufei asked.

Zechs nodded. "Of course. I was getting to that. I resigned my commission and after a time secretly joined the White Fang clan so I could follow up on her letter and search for Mariemaia and Tristan Bloom. Only more recently was I able to get information out of Zodiac Island and attempt to trace Leia's whereabouts."

"I made connections, important ones. Connections."

"Shari," I said to myself and Heero rustled in his chair. He was probably thinking the same thing.

"I uncovered most of what I've just told you. I discovered that Leia was no longer living on Zodiac Island. I believe she was buried there, and want to look for her grave as proof of what Khushrenada did to her."

"And before you ask, Dekim Barton and I never crossed paths. I returned to my ancestral home, here, and took back my name. I had plans to convince the authorities to investigate; of course, I realized that no one would accept my word over Khushrenada's. Even if I was a prince. They would at least listen to me, though, so I arranged a private meeting with the chief of police.

"Khushrenada framed you for something or forged some info that would discredit you, I'll bet."

"But that could be 'covered up' due to Zechs' rank."

"But if he starts whistle blowing on Khushrenada, he could claim Zechs has a grudge against him for whatever reason."

"It was all part of his undead secret," Heero whispered.

I agreed, but held my tongue. Wufei and Zechs were having such a fine tete-de-tete without us. But what they said struck a chord in me. I was supposed to feel sorry for Zechs?

"Treize knew me well and knew my Achilles' heel. He threatened Relena should I make any public accusation against him."

_Enough._ "But she was attacked," I pointed out. "And Heero saved her from the unfortunate fish-faced Sidney. I--" _killed him._

Heero cut me off. "You defended yourself, protected me, from his attack on Zodiac Island. It was his fault he fell on his knife." His deep blue eyes bore into mine, begging me to accept this version of the truth, especially in front of a Preventers agent of the law.

"It was unfortunate that you couldn't bring him back to face justice, calling in the police." Wufei clipped off.

"These Sanc people are a thankless bunch for all some of us have done," I said, staring down his honor.

Yeah, I felt it was my turn to glower at Zechs. I was feeling Trowa's pain all the way I was from him. Zechs and Trowa had worked side-by-side and still he'd withheld important knowledge from the poor guy. I let him into my workplace, trained him, made him a part of my staff and he'd been playing my all along. That got me.

Of course, Heero had certainly been on the receiving end of enough of Zechs' glares, _his_ distain, especially when he first arrived at the palace, at Relena's bequest. He had been particularly antagonistic towards 'Ro. Yeah, that was pretty unprincipled for a dude who made himself out to have such grand ideals.

"Especially considering how one of us saved the life of some other's sister and everything."

Oh, Zechs grasped my meaning completely. He even addressed his next comments to Heero.

"Yuy, I thought we had moved on from our rough start. Don't you see how I might have thought the attack on Relena was a set up from the start? Here was this mysterious young man with no past tuning up on my doorstep as my sister's hero, and his name was Heero! How was I to know that you weren't actually one of Khushrenada's men, trying to ingratiate yourself into my household so you could keep tabs on what I was doing and be an ever-present threat to Relena?"

"He's an artist. Dontcha know artists are never the bad guys?" I asked. Except for Hilde's barbed glare, I was totally brushed off.

"The man who attacked Relena was a thug of Ty Keel's, not one of Khushrenada's heavies," Heero clarified. "With a little checking on your part, you could have known that."

"I did, eventually, or you wouldn't still be living here. But you have brought Ty Keel to my palace in the form of—" Zechs turned towards Wufei. "Who was that slime?"

Wufei had arrested the man who had attacked me. He replied, "Ed Knute."

"Hey he attacked me and we got the police involved. You were there and got one of the bad guys. Did I hear any thanks? Credit for being a helpful citizen? No, I did not." This also went over their heads when they ducked.

"You missed the point," Hil cut in.

"No, I didn't—" I began in my defense.

"Knute. He was on my property, bringing the police here. Also, palace security blocks incoming calls to you from Keel, but that hasn't stopped the hooligan from reporting numerous facts, and lies too, I suppose. Information like… you were one of Odin Lowe's assassins; in fact, you were his _son_. Oh, and if that's not off-putting enough, you were Keel's bitch."

Oh, that was low.

A commotion commenced with me leading off with a right hook into Zechs' midsection. Heero called for Trowa's help to subdue me, while he took on Zechs himself. Wufei stepped in, threatening to arrest us all if we didn't cooperate, sit down and behave.

"Although it warmed my heart to see you defend my honor," Heero said as he settled me into my chair again, "you know everything Zechs had said was true."

"Yeah, but…he had no right, that's all I'm saying."

It helped that a slew of servants flowed in, carrying covered dishes, and warmed plates.

"Lunch is served, Sir."

We returned to a respectable silence, helped ourselves to the excellent food, and settled down. I chose several things that looked promising and new. I certainly was in no hurry to start up the discussion again. More was simmering in the room than our soup.

(o)

Lemon sorbet sparkled from the crystal goblets set before us. I tasted the lacy cookie embellishing the top, closing my eyes, savoring the caramelized sugar, and pictured myself far away. Duo and I at a small beach café. Sun, warm breeze…

"You realize, Winner Corporation owns Voyate labs, so if there's information you need--," Quatre's voice said in a modest tone that, to me, meant the opposite.

The vision collapsed and in its place were rows upon rows of blue-green tanks containing floating, incomplete bodies. Talk about reality crashing in on my brain!

Quatre, Wufei, and, in a peripheral way Hilde and Trowa, were already going over what they knew about the Voyate Laboratory connection to OZ.

Wufei appeared interested in pursuing Voyate from that angle and entered Quatre's family contact numbers as Quatre reeled them off by memory. When he typed the last number, he said, "Many facts point to an unsavory partnership. Barton's body was discovered there."

Duo drew circles in the air with his spoon. "Not table talk."

Wufei ignored him for the most part, although I was in agreement. The discussion of remains, human or otherwise should wait until the meal was over. Where were the "politeness" police now?

"Also, one of Maxwell's employees identified Dr. Silvia Noventa as the assistant to a Voyate lead chemist by the name of Dr. Tsubarov."

"That was Andres," Zechs said since Duo refused to participate while eating.

Wufei typed a bit, pulling up more notes. "Dr. Tsubarov was an employee at Voyate and many leads point to his involvement in her death. What motivation did he have?"

"I think it's clear that he silenced her because she was threatening to go to White Fang, with facts about testing," Zechs commented. "My sources say they had arranged a meeting with her."

"Hold on, why would she do that? Barton was a part of White Fang, and wasn't it her husband who killed him?" Quatre asked in a mild tone.

"This is so confusing," Hilde moaned. "Go back a bit for me. How did Barton die? Duo—shut up!"

My love sat in gloomy silence. He deserved more respect for all he did. I promised that if I ever was allowed to handle the datatron, I would share my turn with him. I meant it, but still he slumped. I think he liked to keep his eating activity separate from his business, especially his mortuary business.

Trowa spoke up. "He was shot at close range in the back of the head execution style, some seven to ten days before body found floating in tank."

"Thanks," Duo mumbled. He dropped his spoon and the last of his cookie drifted to the bottom of the muck in his goblet.

Trowa went on. "When we autopsied Dekim Barton, he'd swallowed a gold chain and medallion. I recognized the jewelry, but couldn't remember where I'd seen the chain before. Naturally, it turned out to be our first clue linking him with White Fang."

Wufei nodded and sat up glowing with pride. I wondered if he never received enough positive feedback from his chief. I also wondered why he was sharing so much with us, why was this not a Preventers mission?

"Barton's car was located in Voyate lab site, and we successfully linked Marshal Noventa to Dekim Barton's death by his fingerprints on that car."

"I hate to ask," Hilde said, "but is this Noventa dude still roaming around free or did you lock him up?"

"He was murdered." Zechs said truthfully. "I was with Duo when Noventa's body was found in the burned out car and later when he and Trowa identified him."

"So, Marshal Noventa worked for OZ and killed Dekim Barton because, well we don't know why, but old DB must have had the goods on OZ on account of TK reneging on their dealings and locking Leia away. So let's take that a step further and just say that Dekim Barton was killed by Noventa under orders of Treize Khushrenada. Anyway, he leaves Barton's body and car at Voyate. Next, some dude offs Noventa--,"

"After leaving evidence linking the murder to White Fang," Wufei said. "We can get to that in a minute. Proceed."

"Thank you, sweetheart." Hilde smiled and continued. "Then a chemist at Voyate kills Noventa's wife, who we think was about to meet with White Fang." She rubbed at the bridge of her nose. "Trowa's parents worked on Zodiac Island and died there and Trowa was sent away… but Dekim Barton must have been pretty close friends of theirs because he left you a hefty inheritance, right?"

Trowa nodded mutely. I wondered if he had thought about that before.

"Whata guy, huh? Uses his son as his right-hand man, his daughter was another tool, and leaves everything he's got to some other folks' kid—I don't know. All I can say is that these White Fang guys have found out something to tick off the OZ dudes big time. My guess is they got the good on the Voyate connection. Am I right, Zechs?"

Wufei agreed for him. "Preventers agents have been following the activities of all the organizations for some time. As of late, the goings-on, like the murders and drug transfer, which we'll discuss soon, have raised more interest. By sharing what I've learned I hope we'll be able to combine all of our discoveries and formulate a common plan. Yes, I know some of you have been planning to act on your own, but I hope we can work together."

He looked my way, probably because I was shaking my head disapprovingly.

"You disagree, Yuy?"

"You would rather _we_ work as a team?" I shot at him. "I would have thought you would rather have your own team of specialized agents reporting to you, following your orders, your plan."

He leveled a dark look at me and said with an elaborate shrug, "I have my orders, which are to work with," he paused to consider who he should include, I guessed, "critical players and those willing to cooperate."

"And that's all of us?" I wanted to know.

Chang nodded grudgingly. Wonderful. A reluctant team leader.

"It is time to go over the lab results," Zechs announced.

Wufei took a deep breath and consulted his handheld computer. The moment it came into sight, I noticed Duo's eyes start to track its position. Mine did the same. When I looked, Trowa and Quatre looked mesmerized as well. It was rather funny. I wondered what would happen if I suggested he give us all one as a contingency for working with him?

"We should move on," he said in an off-hand tone. "First off, the DNA collected at the recent crime scenes turned up something expected and something else totally unforeseen. When Mariemaia Barton-Khushrenada was killed, she was pregnant. Maxwell's autopsy sent the fetus in for further testing, and we were able to recover and isolate out the unborn child's DNA. Keep that thought in mind."

"Marshal Noventa, as we've said before, was murdered with one or more knife stabs, and the murder weapon was left in the car. We were excited when you pointed out the importance of some mark on the knife Duo found in the burned car. It was a White Fang ceremonial dagger embossed with their wolf canine insignia. Whoever used that knife did it to implicate the clan and left it as evidence." Wufei turned to look directly at Trowa. "Originally it had been Trowa's blade, putting him in a sensitive position."

"Although it had been burned, experts were still able to recover DNA from the knife, and here's the shocking part, the man who killed Noventa with that knife was also the father of Mariemaia's baby."

"Oh, God!" Trowa exploded angrily, and then moaned and sagged in his seat.

Quatre pulled him into his arms and enclosed him a moment. Duo chose the moment to leave the room. I watched him as far as the door where he spoke to a servant. I could hear Quatre whispering gentle-sounding words until Trowa shook his head and straightened his back.

"Another memory… thing," our memory-plagued friend began, but faltered and stopped. I recognized that he was putting himself in emotional lockdown.

Duo returned to his chair. "You don't need to explain, buddy."

Quatre held him in his arms and did so anyway. "He's suffered lots of trauma in his lifetime and memory loss seems to be the way his mind and body has dealt with it. Everything that happened around the time of some accident was a complete blank at first, including the accident. And then he found most of his memories before the accident were gone, too. It's coming back in bursts. I think discussing these events is helping him recover more, but it can be a painful process.

"For us all," Duo muttered.

Before Quatre could formulate a comeback of his own, a servant entered the room, removed his malted desert goblet, and placed another fresh portion at his place.

"Thanks," he said and plucked the cookie off. "Just thinking one step ahead." He wiggled it at me. "Like a carpenter who make stairs. Want it?"

"No. Thank you."

"No problemo. Tro'? Cookie?"

Trowa shook off his funk, faking composure, and reached for it. "These are good. Thanks. Bet they're tricky to make."

"Yeah, can't buy anything like this at the Kwiky Mart, heh, heh."

Trowa made an act out of breaking the cookie and pretending to pick up a note falling out of it. "My fortune."

Duo sat forward in his seat. "Cool. What's it say? Lucky in love or riches?"

"Why not both?" Trowa squinted at his invisible paper, then read, "Help! I am being held prisoner in a Chinese bakery. Lucky numbers 6, 13, 19, 33, and 43."

Then I understood what was happening. Duo had just bought Trowa ample time to collect himself. My Duo was a smart, sweet man.

"Speaking of lucky," Trowa began before pausing to nibble on the edge of his crisp cookie.

"Ye-es?" Duo drawled out.

Trowa munched on the cookie, looking thoughtful as he leaned closer to Duo. I barely made out his next comment. "Heero showed me his art collection upstairs."

"He doesn't have--," _an art collection_, my lover started to argue, but clipped off what he was going to say to mull over what Trowa had meant.

"Showing a collection" was slang for making up an excuse to see someone in private for sexual relations. Was Trowa deliberately teasing Duo? Our meeting had been completely platonic, nothing improper had happened between us, but I had to think that what Trowa had said implied he and I had done more than examine my studio's contents and chat. I wondered why he had said that, because nothing Trowa said was by accident. Was he trying to make Duo jealous? Duo was certainly curious if I interpreted his expression correctly.

"You don't have to say anything," Quatre told him. I think he was feeling left out of the joke.

"If Trowa has had another 'breakthrough', then I believe he needs to get this off his chest," Zechs said. "Am I not right?"

Trowa's shrug carried some weight. He was dealing with more emotional issues than he usually did. If I was right about the man, he avoided hassles as often as possible. "Guess so."

He turned away from Duo, seated between him and me, and took up his lover's hand on his left. "This I do have to talk about, love. It's okay."

"I just don't want you to get those nightmares again." I could detect Quatre's sincerity two seats away. Apparently Mr. Winner cared deeply for his memory-impaired boyfriend.

Trowa pressed his lips to the back of Quatre's hand. "I can do this, okay?"

He sat straight in his chair and, while gazing down at his hands layered between Quatre's, he said, "What I remembered were these meetings with Mariemaia. She was upset. Someone had threatened her on the phone and she was afraid. I told her it was probably some asshole messing with her and not to worry. She wanted a gun, but I didn't have anything like that, so I—I gave my knife to her. More of a prop, you know? I didn't think there really was someone stalking her. I should have taken her more seriously; I see that now. God, I set up a whole string of murders, didn't I?"

"You didn't know!" Quatre tried for reassuring.

"Sounds like the stalker man attacked her, murdered her, took the knife, and knowing it was from the clan, used it to kill Noventa and left it behind to implicate the clan." Hilde smiled. "Wow, I could be an investigator."

What if? I had my own mini mind fuck. I was used to revelations of one sort or the other, but this one shook me to my very core. The m.o., the modus_ operandi__,_ was so familiar. Hit man, knives, cover up, picking on the defenseless and fucking them over.

"Your murderer is Tyler Keel." There I said it. It was easy. Still, my heart was pounding.

"I need proof. Some of his DNA would be a start," Wufei said.

"You will get it." _On one condition._

But before I could bring that up, Duo shot out of his seat. "Break time!"

"We'll be at this all day if we stop now," Wufei said, practically whining in frustration over the interruption.

"Hey, you and Zechs may spend hours poring over crap in stuffy meetings, but not me. I'm taking up Heero on his offer to look at his art collection, heh, heh… Eh, don't worry, I'll bring him back."

"You had better. We can do this without you, but Yuy is critical."

"What I don't get," Duo piped up, "is why your agents just don't go after Keel, OZ, all these jokers. Yeah, yeah, orders. I heard." He paused to let what he'd said sink in, then hardened his voice. "I want the bare truth. Why is it that you and Zechs have got us involved here at all?"

"If you would just sit down and listen to the rest, if would be clear the extent to which this—"

Not my Duo. "Wrong answer!" He waved Wufei away, as if the agent would vanish with a quick spell. "Hold that thought," he said as he took my hand in his and tugged. He put a hand under my elbow and shepherded me toward the door.

I heard Trowa and Quatre in the hall behind us, taking advantage of the sudden break to have some alone time, too. The shorter blond lavished his boyfriend with carefully worded praise and voiced gentle concern for his well-being. From the warm, attentive look on Trowa's face, I do not think he minded it a bit.

(o)

"Where are we going?"

"You mentioned my new card. I think now would be a good time to see it."

He practically ran up the stairs, full of anticipation. I hoped the card would be good enough. I had felt confident when Trowa was here, but now I was less sure.

Certain or not, it was too late to stop him from locating it on the desk and opening it to read.

I watched his eyes admire the cover picture and scan the words. A broad grin spit his face. "Cool."

He read it aloud,

"**The New Year's firework displays may be over, but not the one's I see when you and I make love. Hoping for many, many more."**

"It's the truth. I thought you would appreciate that. Do you like it?" I wanted to know.

"I like it plenty. It's just less poetic than the others. Suits me, though."

I stripped off my overly-warm sweater, leaving on my snug t-shirt. I expected him to look. His eyes caught mine, and in a suitably husky voice, picking words I thought he would use, said, "I suit you okay?"

"Oh, yeah--"

The rest of his answer was lost in the banging on outer door, ending our break.

"I was sent to bring you back." Trowa sounded apologetic.

"Thirty more seconds and youda been too late!" Duo remarked with a laugh. "We're on our way."

I received a not-so-lingering kiss that left me wanting more. Desire for him sparked my imagination, which set off my creative juices. Tonight would be fabulous.

* * *

End Chapter 28

TBC in Chapter 29 -- January Cheer, part 4


	29. January Cheer, Part 4

**Greeting Cards**

This is an on-going story arc, based on Heero's greeting cards, and updated monthly, at least.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

A/N: Thanks go to the delightful pair, WaterLily & Snowdragon, for editing the chapter and encouraging me.

**Warnings:** AU, male/male pairings, language, some embalming and autopsies topics covered.

**Chapter 29 --**

**January Cheer, Part 4**

* * *

To put my love in a better mood, I told him about my plan to get him a datatron. He was so pleased I knew it had been the right thing to say. I liked the skip in his step and wiggle in his ass, but I did warn him that Chang might not go for my idea. He was certain, though, that I was the man Wufei wanted on board and that Wufei would do anything to get my assistance. We would see.

Wufei Chang stood by his chair speaking into his cell phone with irritable-sounding, clipped sentences. He shut it down as everyone reassembled at the table. I guessed that he was receiving more orders, ones he would have preferred to decline.

"If we are all ready, I will explain some of Preventers involvement in these complicated cases."

He swept a wayward strand of jet-black hair behind one ear. It made me wonder what kind of hair gel he used to keep it glued into that onion-skin tight ponytail. I am afraid I chuckled at the wrong time, and received a glare in reaction.

"To begin, Lady Une heads the agency and hired me to look into this chain of murders--."

"Not to mention she's a mole at the Zodiac Island resort and the Sanc hospital administrator," Duo put in. "Busy woman."

"Yes, she is. Extremely so. And so is her other key agent, Lucrezia Noin**."**

Duo's reaction was interesting. He began fiddling with the tip of his braid. Normally, he didn't touch his braid any more than I did my own hair. Every so often he would and when he did I found it terribly hot. I liked him to tickle me with it. I liked to paint on him with it. I wanted to play with his braid, now.

"In the past, she has held several cover jobs, including one as the premier Public Relations agent for performers."

Like Solo. Duo had mentioned that to me at one time. Noin. She had once been in public relations. Oh, she had been Solo's agent. Christ. Reminders of our pasts were at every turn today, it seemed.

"She was here last night at the party, for only a short while," Zechs said. "She was called away."

Oh yes. She was Zechs' girlfriend. How convenient.

"She prefers to be addressed by her surname, by the way," Zechs went on to say. "She is a fine woman descended from Italian nobility. We met at the Lake Victoria Academy," he glanced around the table, gracing us with his smarmy smile, "where she got the second highest grade in the history of Lake Victoria Academy."

"Let me guess," Duo said, "you got the highest, right?"

Zechs looked more pleased than a cat who had dined on the palace rare-finch collection. "Well, yes, but that was only because Noin let me."

Trowa choked on his toothpick, and Quatre had to pound on his back to stop him from laughing; that is, _coughing_.

Zechs played through. "… She stayed on as an instructor and I entered the military."

Wufei pursed his lips. I wondered how much longer his patience would last before he started screaming. With a resigned sigh, he left off glaring at Trowa to continue his address. "Noin's OZ contact is Shari Carlyle—"

"Ah, ha!" Duo shouted, dropping his braid. I watched it swing against the back of his chair until it came to a stop, touching my leg. That was hot, too. "So _that's_ how you knew where to find Heero and me at the airport! She knew which airport we landed at and told you. And here I thought you were psychic or something."

"Or something," I whispered. _Bloodsucker._ Duo knew what I meant; he grinned at me.

"What may come as a surprise to all of you," Wufei said in a raised voice, silencing the peanut gallery, "is that Lady Une killed Odin Lowe after he murdered another of her agents investigating OZ."

I did not know that. Not at all. I never knew a thing. My eyes refocused moments later and Duo was staring into my face.

"Okay?" he mouthed.

I nodded. I was fine. Odin had been as close to a father as I'd ever had, and the head of the Preventers killed him. Who were the good guys? Who were the bad? Which was I?

"…Looking into adopted son Tyler Keel's activities and searching for his foster runaway son. Chasing him from Zodiac Island to L1 until he surfaced right here in Sanc. We determined that Hiro Yuy was Heero Yuy."

I heard my name and then Duo's angry retort.

"Then you also know he's an innocent in all the Lowe and Keel crap and whatever the fuck's going on around that island!"

Thank you, Duo, for believing in me. It was time for me to apply a little pressure of my own and get some answers.

"Okay, Chang, if you are done exposing my messy past, how about telling me what it was we were doing in Une's house, your boss's house, collecting hair samples and medicine bottles."

I think everyone took an interest in hearing what he had to say.

"I was there at Noin's request, specifically to gather evidence to clear our superior."

"And did you? Clear her?"

"What is important is that Lady Une was in possession of the same stuff you collected in the lab on Zodiac Island."

"What we think those bodies were subjected to, the ones Duo and I found?" I asked.

Chang and I stared into one another eyes, reading the truth there, then his shifted to Zechs. Now his eyes were hooded, as if he were signaling something, and a silent communication seemed to pass between them.

It was Zechs who spoke up to answer.

"Yes, but the drug was too complex for me to analyze, so I sent the trace powder from her medicine bottle to another lab. I have a dozen or more labels with the same fibers Trowa told us about, which mark them as from Voyate's labs, too. My guess was that the bottles contained chemical variations of one another. I swabbed out the residues, and sent those in for lab work with the others."

"But what does it mean?" Trowa said critically.

"I'm thinking." Wufei lifted his chin, looking defensive. "I can't say for sure, because I don't know, but we can make some educated guesses. Someone has been secretly creating drugs in the lab that are not part of Voyate's average offerings. Somehow, those drugs made their way to the Zodiac laboratories, where they have been testing them on subjects from the penitentiary and the asylum. As Zechs explained, we only have had time to trace a couple of the codes found on bottles in Une's cabinet to their corresponding match in the records on Zodiac Island."

"But you found matches? That's incredible." Quatre was impressed. "So you think Une has been taking some experimental drug?"

"Not just _some _drug." I wanted to make it clear that this was more than the common drug cartel. "They want to live forever, or at least stop aging, and create super people."

Duo slapped the table top, excited. "We saw some of those super people, if they were people, in these tanks. Hundreds and hundreds could have been off in the stacks there."

"Legions. A private army,' Zechs' voice sounded hollow. "I think Tsubarov was creating a 'perfect soldier' drug, and Khushrenada was building an invincible army for Dermail."

"I don't think Lady Une was taking the drug," Wufei asserted. "I believe she was given it to _take_. I have yet to approach her about it. I was hoping she would come forward after discovering it gone."

"And?"

"She called me in and asked me directly if I'd taken it, and I admitted I had."

"And what did she say? How did she get it?" Duo pressed.

"While at the resort, she asked for something to take for her migraines, and this is what she was given."

"Who gave it to her?" Zechs asked. "Who would have taken that chance with anyone outside of the labs, especially on Zodiac Island?

"She wouldn't say. She said Shari was dealing with the contact. But… I've been wondering about that. Maybe they needed more test subjects, and she has medical lab contacts with the hospital here. That would have gotten her involved. Maybe someone made a mistake and gave it to the wrong person. I don't know, but I'm going to find out. Actually, Noin looking into it now."

Maybe it was a good thing non-Preventer people were looking into all this. It seemed to me like the policing agency was in the thick of it.

"Have you analyzed the data Duo and I collected?" _If not, I could do that. Just hand me your toy._

"Not all of it."

"There was something about the ID numbers associated with the patients, a pattern. I noticed it at the time, but never had the opportunity to study them." _But I could--_

I wished I had time to study his datatronics mini. It had all the power of a 4K RAM laptop in the size of a paperback book. I had no real use for one, but I yearned to have it, and get one for the others.

"It was decoded so you can see the date stamps." Wufei located the pages I wanted and handed me his electronic reader device, his sexy little datatronics mini. "You can scroll forward with this. Backwards is here."

"Hn." _Let me play with it!_ I nearly slapped his hands out of the way. I scrolled back and forth, up and down, paged forward and backwards, page, page, page… until I found what I was looking for. I was in love with a thing. There was a term in Japanese for that, which I refused to dwell upon. It was bad enough that I loved a device; it was ridiculous to give that attraction a name. I was so enamored that I missed Quatre rising and making his way around the table until he was looking over my shoulder.

"Look at this, and this," he whispered in my ear.

I could hardly pay attention to the rest of the conversation with Duo drooling on my arm and Quatre breathing down my neck.

I looked up to see Trowa rubbing his forehead. "And my accident was linked to all this? Investigating what happened to Leia? Lots going one here. Okay, then, while you're answering questions, do you think we should check for bodies on Zodiac Island to prove that the drug testing was the cause?"

I let Duo scroll and watched numbers and figures fly by. I think he said "cool," but he could just as easily have been commenting on Trowa's question with a "cruel."

"Well, yes, in a way..." Wufei paused while he decided how much to say. "One body in particular."

I glanced up from the data just as Quatre tapped the screen excitedly and Duo hooked a claw around the tiny viewer.

"I said a long time ago that this would lead to a disinterment," I said with a fleeting look back at the data flashing on the screen.

"Yep," Duo said, sighing contentedly. "I have a bad feeling that this has something to do with those DNA samples collected from all of us."

Without lifting my eyes from the data stream, I pointed out, "A lot of samples have been collected."

Duo wadded up a napkin and threw it at Wufei. "So, ah, tell me, what is the difference between DNA analysis on hair and on blood or semen?"

Wufei stood an inch taller, maybe on his toes and smoothed back his hair. Now he was in his comfort zone. Lecturing. Good. Duo had just bought us a few more minutes with the toy.

"Nuclear DNA comes from blood and tissue. Mitochondrial DNA is collected from hair and bone, and doesn't tattle on its owner's gender… blah, blah… Nuclear DNA testing is, however, the preferred method of DNA testing for identification purposes. It's basically the same as the analysis carried out for paternity testing, actually. Your DNA profile, or that of the questionable remains, is compared with the profiles of known relatives-- What is it Maxwell?" he asked uneasily.

"So, why are we collecting hair, then, if it's not very useful?"

_Good attempt at diversion, love. _

"It's useful, just not the best," he commented acidly. "It's our back up in case my plans don't work out." Wufei cleared his throat, re-centering himself.

Duo nudged me off base, too, but in a good way. I think putting our favorite agent in the same room as Duo Maxwell then adding a helping of pressure from his higher-ups, made for an unhealthy mix.

"I have a DNA sample from Mariemara's body, from the autopsy. What we need is a sample for DNA analysis from her mother, Leia. To prove she died on the island, possibly even discover how she died."

"And you are pretty sure her grave is on Zodiac Island?"

"In the family crypt, I believe. I'm still trying to get a layout of the catacombs and access routes."

"And when you get that DNA sample and it confirms she's her mother, then what?"

Duo attacked with rapid-fire questioning. Wufei was in firing range. How would it end up?

"Well, then we know a secret. With that knowledge, we should be able to discover, or pry the information out of someone, why it is so dark a secret. The question is," Wufei added emphasis by pounding on the table. I was pleased he had found an outlet for his Duo-anger. "Do you want to be part of the tomb raiding?"

"Count me in," Trowa said. The man was too easy.

Quatre ran his finger down the list of the body ID numbers, stopping on one particular page. "These were early test subjects, by the dates. But if I line them up this way… now look."

That was a _non _sequitur that did not follow from what Trowa or Wufei had said. Go Quatre. But do not take the datatron. It was mine now.

Oh, but Quatre Winner was sharp. I had found order in the midst of chaos.

"I see that," I snapped a bit harshly. "These all end in sequential numbers: 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, and 06."

Quatre cried out, "That's us! Quatre is French for '04'. Duo, your name is Latin for two. You are '02'. Trowa--"

"'03', yeah, I get it. Even Triton means three."

"Zechs is 'six' in German. That makes Zechs '06'."

Zechs cleared his throat to add, "'Milliard' is 'billion' in Italian and Swedish."

"That's no help," Duo told him.

"But Noin is "nine" in German," Zechs said.

"'Wu' is Chinese for 'five'," Wufei commented. "I don't like this a bit."

"But what about Heero?" Duo asked.

"The one and only."

Duo looked at me. "Huh? I mean, you're pretty special and all, but—"

"The 'hee' part is Japanese for 'one.' My last name 'Yuy' is supposedly the kanji of 'Yui', which means only. In any case, both my first name and the last name have the connotation of 'one' and together 'the one and only'. Not only that, but my stepfather's name, Odin, is Russian for 'one.'"

"So, we were _all_ test subjects?" Duo asked.

"That's impossible. Not all of you spent time living in a laboratory or you would remember," Wufei said. "There must be another explanation. A coincidence."

"Well, I'm not a part of it," Hilde declared firmly. She had been remarkably subdued since our last break, for which I was grateful. For some reason her ire was particularly focused on my love. Women and their hormone-caused mood swings would always baffle me. "But while you've been playing with numbers, I've been thinking about how us all getting together hasn't been exactly a coincidence."

She looked around at our blank faces. "Oh c'mon! Think! Duo, how did you meet Heero? You found a Valentine he dropped. What are the chances of that happening? Heero, why did you choose that particular coffee shop to hang at when there are others closer?"

"I saw Duo go in once and followed." I smiled apologetically. "I sound like a stalker, but it's true. I would sit and sketch him…"

"Yeah, you were a basket case. So there's an excuse for that, but Duo didn't notice you right off. Not until the Valentine card. And that card!"

"Duo and I met when I was doing my waiter-stint," Quatre said.

"Yeah, I was there, too and nothing came of that. No, not until I took Duo to the Valentine's Day dance at the hospital, did things start coming together."

"Are you admitting that you are the love-glue that binds us?" Duo asked.

"No-o," she strung out with a definite wince, "but think about it for a second. Une drew your card, which led to her passing Quatre's number to you, and that one led to a date. Trowa met me at that dance and he met you, which led to him coming around to the coffee shop. Wufei was at the dance—"

"And so was I. Relena and I spoke."

Duo leaped to his feet. "O-okay. This is giving me the creeps. It's like we were all destined to get together or something."

I repeated, "Or something. I've been telling you."

"I'm pretty upset that we may have been test subjects for some dangerous drug," Quatre said in a ragged voice. "I-I was born in a lab, a test-tube baby. But I wasn't given to think it was on Zodiac Island."

"I was born there," said Trowa.

"I lived on the island, off and on," I said.

"I grew up on the streets of the L2 area," Duo said. "Never knew my parents."

Duo removed the band at the tip of his braid then teased the strands apart, raking through the long locks with his fingers.

"So you don't know where you were born?" Wufei pressed.

"No."

Duo leaned his head back slightly and shook out his hair so it was straight. _Wow._ It looked so masculine, like a stallion shaking out his mane, and he did it in a public a place and situation where I could not react to it. That was one of the reasons it was such a turn on, I would have to wait to react.

Wufei shook his head, which was not the same thing at all. "I don't believe I ever was on Zodiac Island or in a laboratory, but I do not think our associations are merely a coincidence, not anymore."

I could wait to touch Duo no longer. "I request a break until dinner. A late dinner."

There was a hand on my arm, not Duo's, Wufei's. "My device, please?"

It was not mine? No, sadly, it was not. I handed it over most reluctantly. To my surprise, he smiled as he clasped it with both hands and held it over his heart.

"Yes, it is wonderful. I named mine Nataku."

His eyes took on a kind of glow of wonder and awe, and then he walked away.

(o)

"Not that it matters, but where are we going?"

"I need you and fresh air."

"Cool. Door out is thataway."

"Not out. Up."

"That's good. I wasn't excited about walking in the pouring rain."

I led him to my room and marched straight to the window and opened it wide. The wind blew the curtains, ruffling them. It was dark out, although the sun had another hour until setting. The window sill was a slab of slate, quickly misting over with blown droplets.

Duo took a turn looking out into the storm, his hair blowing, too. I touched it. His hair went on for miles.

"Ah, this is about the hair. Am I right?" he asked. His smile was part jubilant part sly.

"You untied it."

"So it's my fault?"

Instead of letting him draw me into a silly argument, I moved swiftly around him and into the bathroom. There, I opened the small window as far as possible and let in the storm.

"Hey, 'Ro? Man, you weren't kidding about the fresh air part."

"I was not in the mood to make love in the icy cold rain," I said. "I thought we could take a shower instead."

But I had in mind more than just a shower. I twisted the faucet to get hot water running into the tub.

I tore off my shirt, and Duo's smile widened. "Okay. I get this part. I take off my clothes."

My nod was slow, mostly because I wanted to watch him strip. I tried to keep up so we would be naked at the same time, but Duo could whip off his pants like lightening. Still, it was close.

After that, it was hard keeping my hands off him, so I stopped trying.

The bathroom window was above the tub, making this perfect.

Duo shivered as a blast of wind ripped through the room. "You've been thinking about doing this for some time?"

"Yes."

With the bathroom window open, it was as if we were outside.

We danced about the bathroom. Lights off , the curtain all the way open—there was no one who could see in.

"If it were light outside we'd have a view of all Sanc, I bet."

"I like the view I have."

Duo rolled his eyes, but I could tell he was pleased.

I stepped into the water first then settled Duo between my legs, his back against my chest.

"Ready for the next part?" I asked.

"I've been ready since you licked the whipped cream off my lips."

I laughed, because sex was not what I meant. Not yet.

"Close your eyes."

We lay there in the steamy, hot water, listening to the rain and the rhythm of our heart beats.

"God, 'Ro, this is fantastic."

"Rains fall, winds blow, the sun shines... it all comes naturally, just like loving you," I said. "Thank you for being the one who calms my inner fears."

He twisted in my arms so he could look into my eyes. "Thank you for being such a romantic. I love that about you."

I kicked a lever with my toes and the shower came on. Like being in the rain, except warmer.

"Heaven," he murmured.

And then we made love in the rain that was not the rain, but better.

* * *

End Chapter 29

TBC in Chapter 30 -- January Cheer, part 5


	30. January Cheer, Part 5

**Greeting Cards**

This is an on-going story arc, based on Heero's greeting cards, and updated monthly, at least.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

A/N: Thanks go to the delightful WaterLily for editing the chapter and encouraging me.

**Warnings:** AU, male/male pairings, language, some embalming and autopsies topics covered.

**Chapter 30 --**

**January Cheer, Part 5**

* * *

'Ro and I hopped downstairs and ran into a rather chummy-looking Tro' and Quat, who were all smiles, so I think they'd made good use of the break, too. The dinner trays and covered dishes rolled past us on their way to the dining room, so we hadn't missed anything important.

I rubbed my hands together, eyeing the spread with pleasure. "Just in time for dinner. Hey, look they have spaghetti!"

"That's _fettuccini alfredo_," Quatre corrected.

"Uh,huh." I rolled my eyes. "Wufei has his phone cemented to his ear, I swear!"

When we he heard me say that, naturally, he snapped the tiny phone shut with a witty quip, "Bring in the food and Maxwell appears."

"Where's Hilde?"

"In our room lying down."

"And you're in here?" I laughed. "I think you missed all the clues as to how to spend your break."

His face darkened to a dangerous purple and he huffed, "I'll let her know it's time to return," and left at a stiff pace.

"You enjoy irritating that man," Heero said. He pulled me out of the way as a serving cart rolled up to unload the delicious smelling dishes.

"Yeah, I do. He's so stuffy. Needs to loosen up."

"And you're just the man to do it." Trowa grinned as he and Quatre lined up beside us. "I could eat a horse."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you," Zechs said from out of nowhere. "No horses are on the menu. Tonight we are having _Canard aux Framboises_ (Duck with Raspberries)."

"Wufei's been talking to his superior officer for hours, I imagine, from the tension in his back," Quatre said.

He leaned over to sniff the main dish, nearly overpowering me with the scent of his aftershave. Funny how a smell can bring back memories, and this one of him and I making out on his couch, was truly weird juxtaposed with the current surroundings. I managed to conjure up a superimposed image of Heero over Quatre.

"You all right, love?" Heero whispered close by.

"Y-yeah. Must be low blood sugar."

After that we all tucked into our fruity duck and the numerous side dishes, including the creamy spaghetti stuff, making small talk or no talk, whichever was safer.

Like a sixth-sense, as the dinner wound down and desert was set before me, I knew the conversation was about to return to business.

"I volunteered to help search for Leia's body," Trowa said. "And whether I do this with a couple friends or with the entire Preventers agency behind me is up to you, Chang."

"We will need help, Yuy's in particular."

I didn't understand. "And that's because--?"

"If he is seen there, it is not alarming. He can explain his visit because he has lived there."

"I don't know," I said, questioning Wufei's logic again. "After what happened the last time he was there, leaving a trail of stolen files and a dead body, wouldn't alarm bells go off the next time he shows up?"

"No, because Lady Une covered for you. A rogue employee was blamed, rounded up, and taken away. Fellow's incarcerated in the L2 compound and considers himself lucky to be there."

_I'll bet._

"And should Yuy invite some friends to camp out on the resort side of the island? That would be unusual, but it wouldn't draw much attention."

"Heero can even pilot a plane and transport us," Zechs put in while casting a knowing look towards my boyfriend. "You have clearance for landing as well, correct?"

"Yes." Heero must not have felt he needed to add a thing.

"Yeah, well I can see if Preventers landed on the island en masse, all hell would break loose," I said. "I get that, but you have agents infiltrating the place, can't they just sneak a few guys more in there and lock it up, make some arrests, then land the troops? I just don't get how the five of us or six are so invaluable."

"Rumor is that after the loss of Keel's man—"

"That was Sidney, darling," I drawled.

I was no longer disturbed about having gutted the dude, the more I heard about Keel. And I could tell I was growing on 'Fei again. I mean, we'd bonded back there in April with all the foolish pranks, and though we hadn't had much time to interact lately, I was a likeable guy. How could he resist?

"Sidney, yes." 'Fei glared my way. "Ty Keel himself is expected to arrive on the island."

"All the more reason for us not to go there, if you get my meaning," I said.

Heero sighed. He was rubbing a spot between his eyebrows. If he was trying to relieve pressure, that wasn't going to do it. I knew one sure way, and that wasn't going to happen until we could escape this company and get behind the door to his bedroom.

"There is no picture on file of the man," Wufei said in a small voice. "Yuy may be the only person who can identify him."

"Oh, so that's the real reason why you need Heero."

The agent gave me one of his petulant head dips. "One of many, but a critical one."

"You don't seem too crazy about us helping you," I pushed a bit more. "But you want us all to hop on the merry-go-round, go for a ride to Zodiac Island, collect $200, and hope we avoid jail terms if we fuck up?"

I could see something finally snap inside the agent. "I'm certainly not! I-I consider you all to be my friends and I don't lead friends into danger; I lead trained agents. Une insists, however, that I include you. And, regrettably, I can understand her point, particularly after seeing all our names encoded into patient data. That continues to disturb me deeply."

When he scanned our faces this time, the arrogance was dropped. I could see that he was honestly moved by asking us to get further involved in a perilous enterprise.

"I'll need your help," he said simply.

Zechs, in contrast, became more complex as he spilled forth with his thoughts. "I should tell you all that Une offered me an agent position in the organization, and I have accepted. That was concluded only this afternoon. With my military background, it was a straightforward thing to do."

"Uh, huh," I said. "You against how many of Khushrenada's men?"

"I'm arranging for more protection to land on the island the moment we have what's important," Wufei said, although he seemed somewhat reluctant to share that information.

Quatre jumped aboard our carousel of fun, snatching at a golden ring. "I want to look for proof I was part of some terrible project, and I'd do anything to give Trowa some peace of mind."

"You have your graduate studies to complete. There's no promise this can be done over a weekend."

I groaned and dropped my head face down on the table. _Oh, come on, Tro', that even sounded like a pathetically weak excuse to me._

"That's a problem I can work around. OZ sounds entrenched on the Island and with Voyate having so much at stake, they aren't going to let us just waltz in under their noses. We'll need a plan."

Wufei sat back in his chair. "I agree," he said respectfully. "Our plan has to be right. You know, as friends, I don't recommend anyone come, actually, but I'll take those that want to." He scanned our faces, starting with me and 'Ro. "We'll need some muscle for the heavy work."

Oh, ho! Mention something stereotypically masculine and everyone wanted a piece of macho action.

"You'll need firepower," Heero put in.

"My dad's got a gun collection. Who knows how to shoot, besides Heero and Zechs, obviously?" Quatre looked around at me, mostly.

Trowa nodded and said, "I remember using a hunting rifle."

"That's fine, but you'll need handguns for close in," I pointed out. "I can handle one, but I'm more a blade man."

Let me correct that. Everyone wanted a piece of macho action, except for my little buddy, Hil.

"Guns! What are you guys talking about?" Hilde cried. "Desecrating a grave is one thing, but now this is getting really scary!"

Gulp. I thought it was scary talk a long time back.

"You're not thinking about shooting at people, are you?" she asked Heero in particular, her outrage evident by the timbre of her voice.

"Last time I heard, the dead don't shoot back," I countered. "Remember, we were once used as fodder for a plan. You can bet they won't think twice taking us out if we get in their way. We have to be able to defend ourselves."

"I want to help, I really do, but I don't know about this now, to be honest. Not only does this sound very dangerous, but unlawful, too." Hilde directed her argument at Wufei, hoping he would intercede on her behalf. She, however, seemed focused on Heero.

"If you can't trust me, the other agents, or Zechs then by all means stay here. In fact, you should stay," Wufei said in the heat of the moment. It had been a rash statement and well-intended, but Hilde took it badly.

"Oh? And miss the action? Oh, no, buster. You can't eliminate me. Maybe Quatre should stay and answer the phones."

Quatre added hastily, "I was on the target-shooting team."

"I don't think you are going to talk him outta this," I remarked to Hilde and then directed my next words of wisdom to Wufei. "And I think Hilde's up for this mission, too. Just voicing concerns."

"Damned straight! I concur! Besides, you definitely need my first-aid help, so don't go demeaning my contribution."

Man, Hil was tough on her boyfriend.

"All right, all right! I'm sorry! You can come along. I was just saying that if you object to the danger, I don't expect you to come, that's all."

"I was objecting to shooting people, sweetie pie. It's not right under any circumstances." Hilda tried again to make her point.

"Fine," Wufei sighed, resigned to taking his girlfriend along. Poor dude. "My plan calls for one group to enter the catacombs, while another guards our backs and our equipment."

"I'm going in," Trowa said. "I'll to do what has to be done. If I have to, I'll do it alone."

"What a martyr," I sighed. "Listen up, folks. Heero and I were in the labs and no one's friendly about having intruders sniffing around. They have security and back it up with armed guards. We're facing a powerful Khushrenada, possibly the assassin Keel, and all their minions who will stop at nothing to prevent us from getting at what we want. Trowa here knows firsthand just how unafraid they are of taking one of us out. And Heero and I were attacked, that was nothing compared to what these guys might do to keep us from our mission."

"So you are not going to help?" Wufei nodded curtly. "Understood."

"Didn't say that," I brushed him aside. "I just wanta be clear that this is no walk in the park. But, I bet that if we don't go to them and clean up this mess, they'll come after us. We know too much and pose a threat, and frankly, I don't like worrying when I'm gonna meet up with some gunman coming out of a dark alley. That means we gotta take the initiative, take it to them, and get what we need to blow their entire operation apart. We'll have the upper hand because we'll be prepared."

"I'm not afraid of dead people. It's the live ones creeping around that worry me," Hilde said looking pointedly at Zechs this time.

And Heero was looking at Zechs also. Was Hilde channeling Heero's quirky fascination with the undead? If so, we were all spending way too much time here in this room together.

"I trust 'Ro," I asserted, "and Wufei."

"What about you, Zechs?" she asked.

The man had the nerve to waggle his pale eyebrows and smirk. "I promise not to lead us into a trap purposely. Chang, we need to discuss _all_ the hazards." He made a conspicuous point of checking his watch, then remarked, "And we've got about a half an hour before Duo calls a break, so you better get started."

_Was I getting that predictable?_ How sad.

"Yes, you are right." Wufei looked over his notes. "Excavating tombs carries special risks, but we can prepare for them. Just tell them what you've learned."

"What I've…dug up?" Zechs smiled at his own joke.

Speaking of "channeling," where had our prince discovered his hidden sense of humor? From me! And I hadn't given him permission to steal my material, so I glared at him. He'd know. Heero understood and patted my leg.

"The underground catacombs contain the bodies of people who might have died of disease, the microbes may still be alive," Zechs said.

"Like the plague?" Quatre asked, reawakening from his daydreaming. He'd been playing footsie with Trowa and then left off to stare blankly at his hands, until now.

"In the older crypts it's possible, but unlikely. Organisms responsible for plague, cholera, typhoid and tuberculosis are unlikely to survive long in a buried cadaver. However, anthrax and smallpox may. Anthrax can form highly resistant spores that can survive in dry, airless conditions and remain viable for at least 80 years," Zechs replied.

"Humans are pretty resistant to anthrax and can be cured with the use of penicillin," I put in. _No reason to terrify the little people, Zechs._

"Should we get shots?" Quatre asked me with a nudge, "Can you give us shots to protect us?"

Zechs shook his head. "Vaccination against anthrax is possible, although the side effects are unpleasant. We'd really have to suspect that we'd be running into bodies with that, and I don't think that's going to be the case."

"Is there some test you can do on the bodies to know before we all get exposed?" Hilde asked this time.

"It is generally not possible to know if any of those interred within a crypt was an anthrax victim, but the possibility remains that some might have been. More importantly, coffin padding might include contaminated animal by-products, like horse hair, which all present a possible risk. For this reason, I recommend that only those who are tolerant of penicillin, or its alternatives, should come."

"What about the plague and whatever else might have killed those people?" Trowa asked.

Great. Quatre's worries were seeping into Trowa. His minimal confidence could be undermined in minutes, but was that a bad thing? Maybe there was another way to fight the bad guys without risk to us? Not that I could think of one. 'Course, it was hard to concentrate while listening to Zechs yak on and on… snor-ring…

"Some of those interred within a post-medieval crypt may have died from smallpox. The risk to health exists where previously infected inhumations within a crypt will have surviving skin with scabs, which would be the only site where the virus might survive. Although the chance of this occurring is minimal, the potential risk is so great that we must take precautions. So far, I have been searching death certificates and all other relevant records to filter out the possibilities and minimize our contact with disease deaths. I had a vaccination against smallpox in childhood, verified by a scar--,"

My "Ooh, show me your scar!" outburst earned me a harsh glower and barely a glitch in his harangue.

"So if in doubt, I handle moving any of those bodies, should the need arise. In any case, we must all be double-gloved when opening coffins, but if any skin survives, I'll inspect the remains first."

I really doubted that would happen. We'd be so busy digging about, there'd be no way he could be checking everything first. I didn't argue, though. It wasn't certain I'd be going; Heero hadn't agreed yet.

"Oh, I nearly forgot to add that because pregnant women have reduced immunity, should you be pregnant then, you should tell me. Those who are HIV positive would also be at increased risk, so the same goes for you."

I didn't know any of us with either of those particular conditions, but when I glanced around quickly, I was surprised at Hilde's ashen face.

Wufei said, "I'll talk to each of you privately over the next few days. The exhumation work isn't for everyone. Tell me, and I'll find some other job for you."

"Yeah, you need some folks to man the base station with our belongings and communication equipment– I get it." I looked at Hilde and winked. "Woman's work."

And that earned me a heated glare and a few harsh words, but nothing more. Something had knocked the fight out of her, and I had a suspicion I knew what. I'd make sure to catch her later and sound her out.

Wufei was scanning his hot little device, intently reading, and perfectly aware of all the interest in it he'd dredged up by showing it off. "Zechs, you should go over the arsenic warnings."

"When you asked me to gather all the information I could on arsenic poisoning," Zechs directed at Wufei with a crooked smile, "I wondered who your enemy was."

Everyone chuckled at this, except Wufei and me. He snorted. I grunted.

"Duo knows more about it than I do. I'm sure he can fill us all in."

_About time to call in my skills! _"In the past, arsenic was the main ingredient in the embalming fluids. We've all upgraded to the safer chemicals recently, because, although effective, arsenic was toxic--"

"Pertinent to our mission," Zechs cut in. I guess I wasn't allowed to lecture with the rest of them. Sobeit. "I discovered that it has proven to be persistent; elemental arsenic will never degrade into harmless by-products. This means that the embalming practices during the last 100 years or so have left a legacy that can potentially impact the environment and harm the health of cemetery workers– _including those planning to exhume a body located in one of these old burial grounds_.

"Is there really that much arsenic lying about?" Hilde asked. "Who knows how much is dangerous?"

I was the only one present, aside from Zechs, who knew exactly how much arsenic it took to kill a human being; Trowa might from his hospital work, but we didn't use it at the mortuary.

"To understand the potential impact, assume a hypothetical cemetery in a modest-sized town. It is reasonable to assume that 2,000 people die during a period of 30 years. If half of those people were embalmed with arsenic, using six ounces of fluid per person, the cemetery contains 380 pounds of arsenic. If the embalmers in the area used more arsenic, such as three pounds per person, then the cemetery would contain over one ton of arsenic. In either case, this is a significant amount of a potent, toxic material to find in the ground at one location."

"Like a nuclear waste site," Trowa snorted.

"Not quite," Zechs said with a smile, "but bad enough. Acute arsenic poisoning by ingestion can occur as the result of hand contact with dusts or objects containing arsenic compounds, and subsequent hand-to-mouth contact. Another common mechanism includes the dust settling on objects which later have contact with the mouth, including the tops of soda cans, cigarettes in a shirt pocket, or eating utensils. Most ingested arsenic is quickly absorbed through the stomach and intestines and enters the blood stream."

"So never trust a vending machine in an old funeral home," Trowa muttered.

"Indeed, and that's why they don't sell food at cemeteries," I added. We smiled wanly at each other's stupid jokes.

"How do we know if there's arsenic around a grave?" Quatre asked with a watery voice. Gunmen and henchmen didn't bother him, but tiny little microbes and crystals did.

I cleared my throat to speak; this was my area of expertise. "Crystals and garlic."

I gave them all a quick, wolfish smile and went on more seriously. "I checked with a forensic archaeologist professor I know to be sure. Hey, I've been thinking and preparing for this a lot longer than you guys! Anyway, he told me that arsenic in a grave is indicated by the presence of vivid blue or blue-green copper oxide-like crystal formations on bones, which have a noticeable garlic-like odor when broken. Not that we're likely to find many of those anyway. The professor urged me to use extreme caution around graves if I encountered unusual odors, soil colors, or staining, particularly in finely divided or crystalline form."

And I got to say all that without interruption.

"So we have to watch out for diseases and avoid contact with arsenic, rogue armed forces, paramilitary guards, insane assassins, what else?" Hilde asked, checking her watch.

Was everyone afraid I was going to explode, implode, or something?

"Well, there is the possibility that we might encounter other chemical hazards like mercury or formaldehyde. All-in-all, we must avoid excessive contact with soil."

Wufei flipped open his briefcase and withdrew a stack of papers. "With regard to that, I've made up a list of things we'll need for the exhumation work. We have a few days while the Preventers requisitions office boxes everything up, so in case I've missed anything, I'd like to go over this: latex gloves under leather ones; face masks with air filtration to PP3 standard; disposable over-suits; washable shoes or boots; hard hats and safety glasses; shovels, rope, pick-axe, hatchet, hammer, and whatever else you can think of."

"I have several collection kits for bones and tissue," I said. "Approved by the Sanc crime scene investigation team."

"Excellent. We need to get going on that right away. So, before we get into more details, I'd like to know who's in on this mission?" Wufei demanded. He scanned everyone insisting that they make their decision at that moment. "Besides myself and Zechs, Trowa, and Quatre."

"And me, s-sweetie," hissed Hilde.

Heero and I sighed together. "We are in," he said.

"Good."

After which Heero added for dramatic effect, I'm sure, "At a cost."

Wufei went bug-eyed. "Cost?

"Yes. Our cooperation requires a particular outlay, from you."

Wufei's hand was at his throat and his voice sounded tight—a little strangled with apprehension, I'd say. "And what is that?"

"Datatrons. For all of us. One each." Heero's smile flickered a moment, then held.

"One of these? For each of you?" Wufei's eyes fell shut as he embraced his own device to his chest.

He drew a very deep breath. I could see his lips moving, most likely calling on the strength of Buddha, who wasn't his buddy or anything, but the name of his God. This was a rather longer chat than usual that he was having with his God this time, but when he was done, his eyes opened, and I could see a special new clarity in them. It was remarkably cool.

"All right, Yuy. You'll all get your data devices. That makes perfect sense. We can share data, communicate securely where cell phones cannot, and play games." And then he smiled.

I saw what had happened pretty plain, too! He was prepared for this! "You were going to get them for us anyway!" I shouted.

"Yes, but I didn't want you to think they weren't worth trying for. If I'd just capitulated right off, then you would have thought you should have asked for more. Now you feel you've won something of value."

Trowa thought this was all hilarious, for some reason, and sat there laughing his head off. Comedians all.

"This worked out well, didn't it?" I asked. "You know Quatre will watch Trowa's back and I'll be there, backing up Heero. You can team up with Zechs and Shari with Noin, leaving Une..."

"Not my jurisdiction," Wufei pointed out. He distributed his lists, saying, "As I see it, Duo, Heero, and Zechs will be the ones going inside the tombs with me." Wufei turned toward Trowa. "I'd like you to be at the entrance, outside to warn us about unwelcome company, and Quatre, if you are adept at shooting, then protecting Trowa and our belongings and preparing for evacuation would be in your hands. Would you be okay with that?"

Trowa didn't look pleased. "I want in on the exhumation, but I'll do what's needed."

"I'd trust you to make sure we stay law-abiding citizens." Hilde said that, meaning she wanted him to keep an eye on any trigger-happy behavior out of us macho types.

Quatre looked down and away, before meeting Wufei's eyes. "I will do everything in my power to keep Trowa alive and out of the hands of that evil Khushrenada."

"Sounds good to me." Trowa smiled slightly.

"We will form an alliance of the just and righteousness shall overcome the powers of evil!" Hilde cried out, while hopping up onto her chair, her tiny fist uplifted in a moment of fervor.

"Ah, yes..." Heero looked uncomfortable. "Duo, can't you do something about her?"

"Hilde, sit down." I was already out of my seat and on it. I yanked on my friend's pants, forcing her back into her own seat.

"So, getting down to basics," Wufei said as he ran his finger down a paper, pressing out the creases. "If you'll look over the page, you'll see a short list of what everyone should bring. This includes a sleeping bag. Two of you should be in charge of food and water for three meals. I wouldn't count on anything more than that."

"We're not staying at the resort?" I asked.

"Where are we staying, Wufei?" echoed Heero.

"Well, I asked Agent Shari, to check out a few cottages and outbuildings in the vicinity of the catacombs. She alerted me this morning that she had been successful and is currently moving in a few cots and lanterns. It will be rustic but dry."

For the next few minutes we huddled over our lists, making changes as new ideas came to mind.

Heero wanted to keep his whereabouts secret from everyone on the island, trusting Une's cover up job not a bit, and would rely on me to do help him keep a low profile. The arrangements weren't tidy, but they were made at last. The most detailed list of equipment needs for the exhumation required the most explanation.

"Zechs and I will take care of this , aside from those bone bags you spoke of, Duo," Wufei announced. "I'll leave Heero and Quatre to be in charge of the weaponry, Hilde to put together a medical kit, and—"

"I'll handle food and water."

"Thank you, Duo."

"Yeah, and if you spot me a twenty, I'll take you to lunch."

Wufei's piercing black eyes bored into my forehead. "Preventers will refund your costs. Save all your receipts."

"Receipts. Gotcha." I grinned. "So, what's left? Is the party over? 'Cause I think that's enough for tonight. I gotta rest and think about this stuff now." I stood up.

That was a signal for the others to say their farewells and leave. Heero tapped me on the shoulder and whispered in my ear, "Would you like to join me tonight?"

"Someplace special?"

"Yes."

"Sure, but I want to stop at my place first and get a change of clothes."

"You can wear mine."

Hmmm, that sounded really hot. Wearing 'Ro's underwear.

"Okay. I'll meet you there in just a moment. I need a word with someone."

"All right, sure."

I moved to Hilde's side, blocking Wufei. "Hey, I need to ask your girl a question. Just be a moment, 'kay?"

"Ask away."

"In private, please. Only a moment..." I smiled and pointed Wufei toward the door.

I pulled Hilde to the side. "I, ah, may be off base here, but I had the feeling you had something on your mind."

Hilde looked uncomfortable, but once everyone else was out of earshot, she said, "I need to be careful around the dust and stuff." Duo waited for her to explain, although he suspected he knew what she was about the tell him. "I-I think, well... I may be pregnant. It's very early, and I know that false ones show up a lot in the first few months so it might not be."

I held up one hand. "Please tell me it's Chang's and not some other guy's."

"It is, yes."

"And you haven't told him, I take it."

"No, not yet. It's too soon. I don't want to get him all, well, excited and worried over nothing. And I most certainly don't want him to feel I can't go. You won't tell, will you?"

"Maybe you shouldn't go. You think about that? There's more than just your life at risk now. And promise me you'll tell him soon, like before the weekend is out. Until then, my lips are sealed. Don't look at me that way. He needs to know so he can decide what to do, too, and believe me, the more time he's got, the better."

I shook my head and stalked out the door.

(o)

I wondered why my love was smiling. He smiled much of the time as a natural expression of his feelings, but this was a "Dangerous Maxwell" smile. Not dangerous for me, but for someone else.

"What?" I asked him right off.

"Room first."

He wanted privacy. This could mean he was thinking about sex, so maybe it was a danger signal. I smiled fractionally as if I was in on his scheme already. I wanted to know what he was up to before being subjected to it, because as much as I trusted him, my survival reflexes were not always controllable should he do something unexpected and in some way threatening. He, on the other hand, liked me to surprise him in bed or the bath. For me, surprises in the past had never led to pleasant experiences. It would take time to get over that queasiness of the unexpected.

"So, you are planning something nice?" I asked.

"Planning? Oh, no. It's not that at all." He closed the door behind him.

The way he came up behind me and pulled me into him in a very close embrace. "Ooh."

I felt his whole body pressed against me, his breath on the nape of my neck and his lips kissing. Mmmmm, that was nearly enough to send me over the edge.

"Hilde's pregnant!" he crowed triumphantly.

"No kidding? Did I miss the announcement?"

"No, I guessed. 'Fei doesn't know and I promised not to tell, but told her she'd have to soon. I didn't promise not to tell you, though."

"I-I will keep it a secret," I promised, barely. His hands distracted me, caressing and turning me around.

"Umm, good," he murmured.

When he pressed me against the wall and gazed into my eyes, I parted my lips. Tempting him to act.

"Kiss me," I ordered.

He cradled the back of my neck and leaned in, kissing me tenderly. His tongue probed, drew back, and then he nibbled my bottom lip.

"More?" he asked.

_Idiot._ "Yes."

When he looked at me with desire in his eyes, his pupils would enlarge so much I could drown in them. His expression grew so intense.

"I can barely hold back from jumping you and making love right here against the wall."

"So, do it," I said.

"Loving you makes my heart explode with happiness." I was trying out a line for a Valentine card.

"So, I give you a heart attack?"

I might use that line, too.

"Yes, love, you slay me."

"Heh, heh… right. Shinigami, that's me."

I laughed and rolled him over and over across the bed. When we reached the edge, I rolled us all the way back. I could keep that up for a long time and he liked it too. Often this would turn into a wrestling match, but this night we just rolled and laughed. My soul mate.

* * *

End Chapter 30

TBC in Chapter 31 -- February Sweethearts , part 1


	31. February Sweethearts

**Greeting Cards**

This is an on-going story arc, based on Heero's greeting cards, and updated monthly, at least.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

A/N: Thanks go to WaterLily and Snowdragon for editing the chapter and encouraging me.

**Warnings:** AU, male/male pairings,and sap-- watch out for the drippy, saccharine sap.

**Chapter 31 --**

**February Sweethearts **

* * *

It was Valentine's Day and we were invited to a party at Quatre Winner's house. I had been afraid Duo had wanted to go to the dance at the hospital; he had gone last year. I had already opted out of Relena's invitation. Relena had astonished me. She had actually begged me to accompany her to the hospital dance. I would have felt foolish showing up with Duo after telling her we had other plans. But as it turned out Duo had had no intention of going.

"Hilde made me go to that stupid dance last year," he explained as he pulled black jeans over the lovely red, silk boxers I gave him for his birthday (very romantic holiday attire,) "but not this time."

"She has a boyfriend to take this year instead of you," I assumed was his reason, wrongly, of course.

"'Fei? No, they're going to Quat's party, too. He doesn't want to run into his ex at the hospital-- Oh you remember he'd been dating Sally Po when he met Hilde? Anyway, facing his ex or his boss at a dance party? I couldn't say which he'd think would be worse."

"Probably the 'dance' part," I joked. "So, Lady Une will be there?"

"She was last year. Une's a hospital administrator of some sort. She wears several hats."

"One would think she would have stepped down when she took over the Preventers."

"But it's her cover, you see? We are the only ones who know about her position in Preventers, I think, though I could be wrong about that. Anyway 'Fei's not going and nor are we."

"I understand his wanting to avoid unpleasant encounters." I avoided as many as possible. I had no idea what to expect from a Winner-hosted Valentine's Day party, but I trusted Trowa to keep it sensible.

I took off the green shirt I had thought would look good, but made me look ill, and chose a silky white one Duo turned down for a red. Even though he was taller, we bought the same size shirts. They tended to fit differently, but equally well, so we shared. Pants were not sharable. His legs were longer.

"Did Relena really invite you to the dance? I can't believe the nerve of that woman! She knows we're a couple."

"Some people believe a ring demonstrates a form of bonding, permanence, and a man without one is fair game."

"That's stupid enough. A couple is up here," he stabbed at his temple with a finger. "We don't need matching rings to prove how together we are." He must have seen something to the contrary written on my face, because his voice hitched and he asked, "D-do we?"

I always admired the rings couples wore. I thought of a ring as a symbol of eternal love. I would love to wear one from Duo.

"'Ro? Hey, is this something important I'm stomping all over here? Talk to me."

"I like them."

"You don't think a ring is like a token of possession?"

"Only in that I would love to possess something valuable you have given me."

"Oh."

"It shows the world that you have found a loving partner." A friend with whom you can share the rest of your life.

"And you'd wear one if you had one?"

"If it was from you, and you wore a matching one."

"Hmm. You look good, babe." He tossed me the keys. "You can drive."

We were at Duo's apartment with the mortuary van. I backed out of the parking space and trundled toward the university district where Winner lived.

"Make a left up at the light," he told me.

I thought he wanted to pick up some wine on the way, so I made the turn without comment. But when his next instructions took us into Sanc's swankier downtown, I wondered what he had up his sleeve. No store manager wanted a mortuary van parked out front; it scared away business and attracted curiosity seekers.

I asked him, "Are we driving to kill time or worry the merchants?"

"Park anywhere. There!"

"It is a red zone." In front of a jewelry store.

Duo slapped an "On Duty" sign onto the windshield and unlatched his seatbelt. "I don't take advantage often. C'mon."

"What are we doing here?" I asked.

"Testing the waters. You want rings; we look at rings and see how that goes."

Oh. But what had we just discussed? To me, it implied we were engaged, and I know Duo had not changed his mind about that. Now I was confused. All I could guess was that the rings carried no meaning to him besides a shared gift. Did I want to wear a ring without significance?

I followed Duo into the shop. Even now, thinking about that moment is enough to take my breath away. He was a slender young man, wearing a brilliant red shirt topped with a black leather jacket. A long dark braid hung down his back, tied at the end with a black leather band. His finely chiseled features might have been carved from creamy marble. His eyes, violet-blue, flashed with an inner tempest. He was a man on a mission, focused, determined, and absolutely stunning.

The eyes of customers and sales people turned toward us, him. If he was aware of the sensation his appearance caused, he gave no indication of it. He wound his way to the cases of rings, pausing long enough for me to decide which ones to consider first.

I found the simpler bands in the less glittery counter, and within seconds there was an attentive clerk wishing to help us. The guy was smart enough not to draw conclusions about us, or at least not to ask silly questions. He just listened at first.

"Silver or gold? Plain? I don't know," Duo said. "I got past the 'possession' symbolism of a ring, because the more I thought at that, the more I realized it was Solo's voice making excuses for not wanting them for us. But they look so—"

Expensive and permanent.

"These are wedding rings," the clerk said.

"That's not what we want." Duo looked ready to give up and make a run for the nearest exit.

The clerk smiled knowingly. "Young adults not quite ready for the full commitment of engagement and planning a wedding will often give _promise_ rings as a symbol of their love and their decision to at some point when they are older to consider marriage to one another."

"A promise ring," Duo repeated. "Does that mean we'd have to get other rings later, assuming we wanted to, you know?"

Assuming we wanted to get married? So, Duo was still considering that option. It was nice to hear it from his lips. Reassuring.

"That could become cumbersome, if you weren't interested in wearing multiple rings. In your case, gentlemen, perhaps a bracelet would be more to your liking? Over here—"

Now, the bracelets were attractive and carried none of the _weight _of a ring. Duo picked out three and held them up. "What do you think?"

Just reading his face told me he was more comfortable with the choice, too. I smiled. "Gold, with no inscription."

"You're right. We want to take them away today, not wait around for that. Man, they're pretty heavy."

The salesman showed us a couple thinner chains in gold. "Promise jewelry sells very well. It's a good step for couples who fall in love very quickly and wish to demonstrate exclusivity, but want to be able to get to know each other better before setting a wedding date."

Duo looked over at me.

"I'll let you think it over in private." The salesman moved a discrete distance away where he could keep an eye on his trays of bracelets, but not overhear what we had to say.

"If you have your heart set on rings--," Duo began.

It was time for me to set him straight once and for all. "To me, rings are worn, not for any religious or magical reason, but because the person wants to publicly announce that they have found an intimate friend that they plan share the rest of their lives with. I would want to wear mine with pride. If and when we are both ready to make that kind of commitment, then we will choose rings, if that is all right with you?"

His relief was obvious. He let out his breath, blowing the air up, ruffling the hair comically. "Yeah. I knew you'd understand. You always do. I think I like this promise idea, too. You choose the bracelet."

"I like the promise idea as well. Either of these will do, but this one costs half as much."

"Since I can't tell the difference, wanna go with the cheaper one? Not that I don't think you're worth the best or anything."

I had to chuckle at his backpedaling. He was trying so hard to please me in this, what he must consider to be, extravagant gift exchange, whose meaning was largely of a abstract nature. The clerk reappeared instantly, shimmering over.

"Smart choice. Would you like these gift wrapped or wear them out?"

"Just boxes. No paper or ribbons," Duo specified.

No frills. Duo's frugal nature attracted me almost as much as his sense of humor. Naturally, that came after I grew to know him, because at first it was his dead-on gorgeousness that drew me in.

We each paid for the other's gift. That felt rather silly, but it was fair.

"Mr. Maxwell. You are--?" The clerk's eyes flashed out the window to the mortuary van.

"That one. Yep. Sorry 'bout that. I don't usually park out front like that, but we're kinda in a hurry."

"No problem at all. We welcome our local business owners to stop in any time." The man smiled graciously and returned Duo's card. As he took my charge card. He scanned the name and his smile grew. "Mr. Yuy. You wouldn't possibly be the artist?"

I gave him a curt nod. "Yes."

"I caught your show during a lunch break. I think you're wonderful." His neck and cheeks pinked and he continued to write up the ticket. "I couldn't afford to buy anything, but I've been saving up for a Valentine card. It may be too late."

Before the man could gush more, I asked for his business card, turned it over, and drew a quick sketch of his face. Shock of blonde hair, gold, wire-rim glasses, suit collar, tie, dimples.

"To Dave," I wrote, "Free pass for a holiday card today."

"When you buy your card, go to Hilde's Boutique and show her this. She can call me if she has any doubts as to its authenticity. In any case, it will get you a Valentine at a price I am certain you can afford."

I had Hilde hold onto a few special cards for last minute shoppers. If they didn't sell, she could keep one. I know she would have put that one back, so I was sure Dave would get one today.

"T-thank you!" The man blubbered more before returning my card with a receipt. He checked his watch. "Looks like it's an early lunch day for me."

We thanked Dave again, and left.

"That was nice," Duo told me. He chose to do the driving to Winner's place and cranked the engine.

"He was kind, considerate, and helpful." I stared out the window as dark clouds scuttled overhead. The first drops splattered against the windshield as we entered the older area with the tall trees bare of leaves and the stately brick buildings. "He could have been patronizing and made us feel uncomfortable."

"True, still, you were extra nice." Duo turned and slowed, searching for a parking space. "There are times I wish we'd taken the bus. There's one!" A wrench of the steering wheel one way then another and he nudged the van into a slot. "So, can we open our gifts before we go in, or are we waiting for a special moment?"

"Now would be fine." That way we could show them off. I had an irrational desire to see the look on Winner's face when we showed him our matching bracelets. Duo loved me best. Now I had proof. Not that I needed it, but it felt good. A tad childish, but good.

We exchanged boxes and hesitated. "On the count of three," he said. He did a countdown and then we simultaneously opened our gifts. "Cool."

"Yes," I agree. "May I put yours on you?"

"Yeah, I don't know how I'd work the clasp left-handed-- or do we wear these on our left arms? What do you think?"

"Right is fine." That way they might be more noticeable, too. I fastened the clasp, and then he did the same for me. We twisted our arms and admired the results. Most important to me was how he felt, but his glow reassured me. "I like them."

"They look great, babe. Thanks and thanks for the idea and all."

"Do I get a kiss to go with it?"

Suddenly, in my arms was all 130 pounds of solid lover. He had me pressed up against the door and his tongue filling my mouth in a hot-as-hell kiss. God, I loved him like this, wanting me, taking me—

"We either go in now or go home."

"Home?" Wishful thinking.

He punched my arm. "Wrong. Let's go."

He dragged me in by the hair; well, not really. It was my hand. His bracelet tickled my wrist and sparkled. My Duo.

Thankfully, Winner's party was a small gathering. I pulled Trowa to the side to congratulate him on getting his way about the small number of invitees, and he was so smug about it.

"Like I said, I got the power," he quipped.

_He and I had talked about the party over lunch the week before. Our meeting had been at my bequest with the intention of learning about his boyfriend's tastes so I could complete his Valentine card gift. When I arrived at the morgue to collect Trowa, Duo had been surprised by my visit, having forgotten that I had forewarned him just that morning in the coffee shop. He had been working too hard playing catch up._

"_I will stop by the morgue at lunchtime, just to let you know," I repeated__._

"_Know what?"_

_Sigh. "That I will be there. Trowa and I have a lunch… appointment."_

"_Oh, yeah?" _

_I could have sworn I detected flecks of green in his eyes._

"_He asked me to create a card for Quatre and I need to know about his special likes and dislikes to make the card personal." _

"_You could ask me!" _

_I folded my arms across my chest and frowned. Hard. "No. I do not think it is a good idea for me to get private information about my best friend's boyfriend from his ex, who also happens to be my boyfriend." _

_He took a moment to parse that then his scowl smoothed out. "Yeah, okay, if you put it that way… I get it. But do you have to go to lunch?"_

"_Are you jealous?"_

_His face paled first then the blood flooded back in force. "J-jealous? Of Trowa? Are you kidding? No, no, no, no. It means lunch coverage will be light, that's all."_

_Sure, love. "I see. So, do you think you might be able to get away for a lunch date with me sometime?"_

"_Yeah," and a smile split his face. "Just not right yet. We are so behind. Bodies stacked to the roof."_

"_And you work through lunch every day?" _

_When he started to nod in assent, I asked, "Do you have a funeral this week?"_

"_Three," he said right off then added, "… and one more called in this morning for Saturday. That's two on Saturday! Thursday's free."_

"_Then we lunch on Thursday. Trowa will cover for you. That's his job now." _

_Duo started to object, paused, then agreed and in the process completely wiped out the previous conversation from his memory, apparently. By the time I showed at the mortuary's back door, he was completely baffled by my appearance. I pulled him aside, reminded him, kissed him lightly to reassure him, and told him to go get something to eat himself. _

"_I will."_

"_Now, love. You will collapse otherwise."_

_A shout from inside, Endive, I think, said, "He'll eat!"_

"_Oh, and after work we help the Claremonts pack. Don't forget!"_

_Really, Duo! I had it in my daily planner. "I will remember."_

_Trowa left with me, raising eyebrows on all his employees, and we left before we could hear the questions. Duo, I knew, would remember what it was all about, eventually. Around the block, I picked up takeout sandwiches and took a walk._

"_Favorite color?"_

"_He says blue, but he always picks out yellow stuff."_

"_Animal?"_

"_Only in bed." Trowa flickered a smile and shook his head. "Kidding… ah… cats."_

"_What kind of flowers does he like?" I asked._

"_Violets." _

_Trowa knew the answer and I crooked an eyebrow. Most guys ignored details like that. _

"_Good. I know where to find some." _

_We finished our sandwiches and tossed the trash in a corner market garbage container._

"_It's winter," he reminded me._

"_Yes, it is." I shared my smart-alecky smile with him, but nothing else for a while. _

_We turned up an avenue in one of the older posh neighborhoods. Most of the flowering plants were dead or sticks, but if you looked closely, you could spot signs of spring. Violas planted in fall sported a few tattered flowers, and freshly planted primulas, destined to be pelted into the mud by future rain or hail, brightened the greens and grays of the landscapes. I stopped in front of an early century built home with classic columns supporting a cold-looking portico._

"_Here are some." _

_I pointed to a mass of tiny green leaves with purple flowers on short stems. In spring, when the weather was warmer and the sun out longer, the stems would grow. Trowa leaned down and picked one to smell._

"_Yeah, that's the scent he likes. Puts it in his bath."_

"_He puts flowers in his bath?"_

"_Bubble bath."_

"_Oh!" Now that was a fantastic idea!_

"_Haven't tried that yet? I definitely recommend a bubble bath together."_

"_Thanks." I added that to my list of things to do and then returned to the present. "I need some violets to press."_

"_Sure thing." Trowa picked a handful from plants which had seeded themselves along the sidewalk and carried them back to the coffee shop. Along the way he quizzed me about Duo by guessing the answers first._

"_Blue?"_

"_Black."_

"_Dog?"_

"_He is not an animal lover, but he has a mouse."_

_Trowa hesitated a moment then chuckled. "That's a pest, not a pet."_

"_Most pets are pests if they belong to someone else."_

_Trowa agreed with a nod. "Roses?"_

_I smiled. "Yes. I think he likes roses best."_

"_He likes this rose petal rice pudding Quatre makes. It'll be at the party so you can taste it."_

_Not on your life. When I visualized Duo lapping rice pudding off a pale naked chest I felt sick. I did not want to consider where or when Quatre had made Duo pudding. _

"_Party? Oh, the valentine one." I couldn't help my lack of enthusiasm for that festivity. Noisy, crowded, strangers__,__ all added up to make it a stressful event for me._

"_Not a party animal?"_

"_Not a pack animal." When Trowa looked confused I added, "Like a wolf… lives in a pack?"_

"_Oh, yeah… Me neither," Trowa confessed. "How about I convince Quatre to keep it just us and Chang and his girl?"_

"_That would be better, but can you swing it? Winner seems rather—" Bossy sounded harsh._

"_Used to getting his way? Yeah, but I'm tenacious and this is important. We need to be tight, close. We can't talk openly about the mission with others around."_

"_I hope you can keep the party small. Duo said he had problems getting Quatre to go along with his ideas."_

"_Duo's a pushover. So are you. Oh, not about everything, but with relationships, friends. Couple of softies. I got the power of persuasion." He chuckled again. "Let me guess your likes. You are a green?"_

"_Orange."_

"_Cat?"_

"_Dragons."_

"_That's not a… okay. Have it your way, although we call them lizards in this day and age. And with flowers…ah… tulips."_

_He snickered at the face I made. We were standing by the window of a florist's shop where pink and white tulips, red roses, and dyed green carnations were featured. He was unimaginative._

"_Tulips? Fuck you. I am a carnation man." _

_Speaking of unimaginative, carnations were pretty blah in my book. My favorite flowers had nearly unpronounceable names, certainly nothing a brain-wiped lab-tech would recognize. I think he got that and we laughed together. _

"_My turn. Blue."_

"_Yeah."_

"_Dog."_

"_Yeah."_

"_And you do not know shit about flowers, but you'll eat broccoli." _

_Trowa was doubled up, snorting, and wiping his eyes. "Jesus, Yuy…"_

_I made him cry. Cool. I guess I had power, too._

And Trowa had been right. When Duo and I arrived at the Valentine Party house, Wufei and Hilde and Trowa and Quatre were the only other couples there. Nice. I slapped an o-fuda on the threshold as I passed through. Heart-shaped. Pink paper. Red pen. For the occasion—just the one.

Quatre glowed with party fever; he needed an o-fude of a different sort. "Now that everyone's here, I want you all to sit around the coffee tables. We're going to make cards!"

Oh boy.

"But in order to know who you are making your special card for, we are going to draw names from this hat."

Oh joy. "But I already made a card for—"

"That's okay! If you draw the name of a person you already brought a card for, then choose another name. Go on, Heero, you go first."

With all the enthusiasm of a cat getting a bath on a cold day, I took a paper from the knit cap. I had Quatre's name. What good things could I dredge up to say to him? Thanks for releasing Duo before you slept with him…no… Nice to know you could be so dumb as to let the best guy on the planet slip through you money-riddled fingers… nooo… Thanks for the putting a smile on my best friend's face…double no…?

"Do I say whose name I got?" I asked.

"No, keep it a secret. Trowa, you choose next."

Everyone took a turn.

"Now that you all have a name, you'll make that person a card, but not just any card. You must write one positive thing about that person. Then when you are done with that, you'll make a Valentine card for the most important person in your life, who had better be in this room."

We all joined him in a laugh, but trailed off as he set out piles of colored papers, stiff card stock, lacy doilies, glue, pens, ribbons and feathers, which confused most of the others. As he instructed everyone on the making of Valentine cards, I thought of birds, flying ones carrying ribbons in their beaks, trailing through the air, weaving through the cutout edges of the heart-shaped doilies… and then I heard my name and returned to the conversation.

"Um, like Yuy here, I already did that," Trowa said. "We could bring out the food?"

Quarter was tearfully thrilled to be relieved of further cooking duty, grateful that we would do the rest, happy never, ever to have to be like a waiter again. Drama queen. "Almost everything is already done," he assured us, but then dictated everything that was left to do and it seemed like there was plenty to keep the two of us occupied for an hour. I trusted Trowa to keep it real and know how much of Quatre's plans we could blow off.

We were diligently cutting, pasting and otherwise settling into our card creations, when the soft music quiet was cut by an ear-piercing squeal. Hilde grabbed Duo's arm, then mine. "You're both wearing matching bracelets!"

Duo was delighted, which made me very, very happy. "We just got'em."

"I love it!" Hilde gushed.

"Is this a formal…arrangement?" Chang took over the questioning from his girlfriend. He was particularly interested in rigid rules, I had come to recognize.

"Naw, just to show we date exclusively. We chose them over rings." Duo's explanation would do.

Quatre demanded a closer look. I was very pleased when Duo refused to remove his bracelet for closer inspection. "I'll shower with it. It ain't coming off."

"I think it's a lovely sentimental gift to share, don't you Trowa?"

"Yeah."

My best friend seemed to admire the matching bracelets. He touched and smiled agreeably. But… my feeling was that Trowa would have preferred his lover in _hand_cuffs, but that was just an image I had in my head.

When Quatre excused himself and left the room for a couple minutes to take a leak, I gave Duo and Trowa a couple card ideas. I refused to do the drawings, though.

"Fun for you, but work for me," I reminded them. I did touch-up Trowa's picture with the perfect smile, but that was all. When he was finished with his card I reminded him, "Food duty for us now."

He and I left the others to their gluey sticky messes. We took containers out of the spacious refrigerator and assembled snacks on trays. I made tea and he made coffee so that we were ready to haul it all in about the time the others had cleared off the tables.

"Eat or cards?" Trowa asked. It was totally unnecessary, of course.

"Eat!"

"We can have our card exchange with dessert," Quatre said, taking control, such as it was.

The piles of rather dainty finger sandwiches and hefty meat pies disappeared like lightening. Trowa and I stood to exchange the empty trays for dessert and beverage-filled ones, while Quatre fluttered about with excitement.

"Wait till he gets all sugared up," Trowa whispered. "He talks so fast it's come out just a buzz."

"Duo gets louder," I told him, since it seemed best friends shared a secret or two.

We dumped trash and refilled a tray with treats, plates, and napkins and another with coffee and tea items.

"Those cakes are very red," I noted.

"Intense, huh? He calls them red velvet cakes with the best white frosting ever."

"Is the white lumpy stuff in a bowl the rose pudding?" I asked.

"Yeah, here," he said as he tore up a fresh rose from a vase and sprinkled petals over the top. "That's what he does."

"I hope those were clean."

"I'm not eating it," Trowa announced then pranced out of the kitchen with his tray.

"You really out-did yourself here, Quat," I heard Duo say.

I managed not to spill burning hot liquid on anyone as I lowered my tray to the table. This was a balancing act I thought Trowa would have endured better than I, but he was already jamming a red cupcake into his mouth.

Wufei, interestingly, gave me a hand with the teetering tray. Of course, it was his lap most in danger of being soaked if my hand slipped.

"Man, my fav stuff. This is so good." Duo shoveled a groaning spoonful of pudding into his mouth.

Quatre insisted that we trade around our cards and read the inscriptions. Trowa used the opportunity to give him the Yuy original. Quatre was tearfully thrilled.

It was a pretty thing with a cutout in the center featuring pressed violets between sheets of vellum. There was a sleepy white cat with a yellow bow napping on a rug in dappled sunlight, its head resting on the lid of a pink heart-shaped candy box, and it said, "I'd love to cuddle with my Valentine." The art was some of my best, and Trowa knew it.

On that high note, Trowa gave Hilde his homemade card. He had used my idea, but his drawing wasn't bad at all. On the outside was a huge female black widow spider and a tiny male one holding out a Valentine candy box and wearing a cheesy grin. Inside the card was the female and the empty candy box. Extending from her mouth were a couple twiggy legs. The inscription read, "And he brought dessert, how thoughtful."

Hilde practically "busted a gut" as Duo would say. "This is the funniest card ever, Trowa!"

My card to Quatre was yellow with butterflies and inside it said I appreciated his planning skills. He smiled politely and thanked me. I had not wanted to overshadow the card I had made for Trowa to give him, and I think I succeeded.

Hilde made me a multilayered doily and cutout heart creation that was rather fussy but pretty. She wrote that my best features were my blue eyes and dark hair, which were like hers so ha, ha! I wished it did not make me think that Duo liked me because I reminded him of his best girl friend.

Quatre gave Wufei a splendid card with a list of Wufei's fine qualities inside. Very tasteful and Chang appreciated it in the way Winner understood.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, Wufei."

Wufei handed Duo a rather plain card. White, folded in two with "DUO" printed on the outside and "CHANG" printed on the inside along with a tightly scripted note, "Bravery and Justice above all else."

Duo smiled and thanked him as he jabbed a card Trowa's way. On the cover was a very roughly sketched pair of snakes lying nose-to-nose, bodies curved into a perfect heart shape. Inside, there was the pair now flattened with wavy tread marks as if run over by a car. "Pair imperfect."

Quatre thought it was not very "Valentiny" and Trowa agreed. "But then you're supposed to be my Valentine," he said and then kissed Quatre to the floor.

And Duo's card to me?

He made a doily-heart layered thing like Hilde had, probably at her direction. On the cover he printed, "I'm more than one." Inside were the words, "Sister Helen had a picture of me when I was 2."

Now that was funny.

We all talked and listened to music and were about halfway into a screwy movie, when Wufei was called away to work. We helped Quatre pick up and then took off, party over, which was good because I had night time plans for my love.

(o)

My plans had begun earlier in the week. After Trowa clued me in on the fun prospects of sex bubble bathing, I visited the department store, looking for something that spoke to me. I settled on rose bubble bath with super bubble action and real damask extract, but it was just settling. And then I spotted silly bath time soap crayons for kids. And foam soap. I knew I would enchant Duo instantly.

When Valentine's Day arrived, I had made sure we started out at Duo's and not my room, because I had fixed up my room and bath for a special night. We dressed at his place, bought our wonderful bracelets (surprise!) and went to Quatre's party. But when it was all over, we drove the Mortuary van to the palace.

The moment he walked into my room he suspected something, of course, my shouting "Close your eyes!" had a lot to do with that, but I had filled the place with candles and had to light them all to give the full effect. So he stood patiently and waited.

"I smell burning matches."

"I have it all under control."

"Okay, just had to make sure you weren't about to burn down the palace with me in it. You aren't, right?"

"I am not burning down the palace. All right. You can open them now."

"Oooh pretty, babe. Real romantic."

"This is only the beginning." I lead him to the bathroom and undressed him, kissing each exposed limb as I went.

"You wrote a poem on the shower walls?" he pointed out.

"With the soap crayons." I was sane. "This is my card to you."

"My… oh, yeah, I get it. Cool…"

Then I read it aloud so he could hear it coming from me:

"_**Nothing is more beautiful to me than you wearing only the moonlight and my kisses."**_

"God, 'Ro… You are amazing."

"Just you wait." I turned on the bath and let the water pound on the entire bottle of soap that I had upended in there. I may have overdone that part. The bubbles grew to extraordinary heights and made Duo laugh. So… maybe I did it right.

"I bought soap crayons and foam soap, which is colored soap that comes in cans like hair mousse."

"What have you got in mind?" the silly boy asked.

"Climb in and find out."

My boyfriend and I used the foam soap to make "outfits" on each other. We used the soap crayons to write on each other and to write sayings and draw pictures on the bathroom tile.

"I like your playful side," he told me.

"I love your every side," I said and made him give me a new hairdo—blue mousse.

I had readied his favorite "travel" razor, which he'd bought with a toothbrush and left in my bathroom. I sat on his lap and shaved his face for him, gently kissing the areas after I shaved them. After that, he did the same for me. We rinsed and I washed his hair. Mine was fine.

"Relax," I told him.

I massaged his back and we lay back in the water quietly, just listening to each other's breathing.

"We're getting all wrinkly. I hate to, but we should get out." He was right.

We used the shower to rid ourselves of the last of the bubbles and colored soap

We took turns drying each other, blew out candles from the bath to the dresser, and then climbed into my bed.

"I love my Valentine, Heero."

"I love you." I really did, too.

I just looked at him lying there. His hair fell in dark lustrous waves that flowed and blended into the dark coverlet. When he moved it came alive burnished by the candle highlights. He was exquisite, beautiful beyond anything I had ever imagined.

And I had an excellent and wild imagination.

* * *

End Chapter 31

A/n: Heero's card line came from an old Valentine I found in an antique store and can commonly be found on cards today, but i liked it.

TBC in Chapter 32 -- March Hair, Part 1


	32. March Hair

**Greeting Cards**

This is an on-going story arc, based on Heero's greeting cards, and updated monthly, at least.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

A/N: Thanks go to Snowdragon for the valuable encouragement and to WaterLily for editing the chapter with keen-eyed kindness and providing the _**Gaelic**_!

**Warnings:** AU, male/male pairings, language, some embalming and autopsies topics covered.

**Chapter 31 --**

**March Hair **

* * *

The phone was jangling as I unlocked the door, so I ran like hellcats were after me to get it.

"Hey! Duo Maxwell here."

It was Howard my ex-boss from L2. Wouldn't have guessed I'd be getting a call from him, at all.

"Howzit going for you, Maxie-boy?"

"Howie, that you man? I couldn't be better, actually, and work's not so bad either, heh, heh. I have me a business partner to help out now. How 'bout you? Folks still dying to see you?"

We mortuary owners have always shared an ornery sense of humor.

"Well, the truth is, not so much. Some New Agers set up a fancyass funeral home not far up the road and it's dug into trade."

"I'm really sorry to hear that. How can I help?"

"Glad you asked."

This was where I was sure he was going to ask me for money. He'd loaned me plenty when I bought my business, and I could just about pay him back now. Too bad. I'd been hoping to contribute to the house fund Heero and I were putting together.

"My place is going belly up; in fact, I called to see if you could use more help. I've got some fine employees that will be needing jobs."

I did feel bad for him, but I couldn't help but think how the timing couldn't be better for me. "Oh yeah? And how about yourself?"

"Oh, I got some things going on, money squirreled away. I'll be okay."

"How about a temporary job?" I asked, hoping not to have to explain why both Trowa and I would be vacationing at the same time.

"Whatcher have in mind?"

"About a week or two. You could come bring your employees help set them up here while I'm here to show them how I do things and then stay on as manager while my partner and I are…on vacation for a couple days."

"This business partner's not something else to ya is he?"

"No, oh no. No mixing work and play. Not me. Just we got some friends in common and this could help out and let us both go."

"Okay, sounds good for everyone. What's your timing?"

"This probably sounds crazy…" I paused while I thought about how to put what I wanted to say.

"Coming from you, Maxwell, I'd expect nothing less."

"In that case, I need you tomorrow. So, think about that, while I check with my partner, 'kay? Hold that thought. I'll call you back in ten. Bye."

I let that soak in a minute and rang up Trowa on my cell phone. I got his boyfriend.

"Happy Pi day, Duo!"

"Pie day?"

"Pi—that magical, mystical number representing the ratio of a circle's circumference to its diameter. The date's, um, 3-14 and Pi is 3 point one four dot, dot, dot."

"Ah, I get it. Number nerds, rejoice! 'Fei-man's into numerology; he'd appreciate it."

"He is? Oooh! I will have to call him! Maybe he does Pi-ku? That's Pi haiku readings and recitation contests, which is…no that's Japanese. Maybe Heero does that? That's two calls to make."

"Um, Quat--?"

"You want Trowa? I'll get him, but he's unwinding in the shower. I only picked up because it was your caller ID. Oh, here he comes."

"Tro'?" I asked, but Quatre hadn't given up the phone yet.

"It's too late to sink your teeth into a slice of pi-cred at the Pi second-- 1:59:26 p.m. is already past! Okay, here he is!"

"Hey."

"Tro'? Yeah, I know we just parted company, but I just can't bear being apart, heh, heh…"

"Duo, are you insane?"

"Ah, no. Okay, here goes--"

I made a quick explanation of Howard's predicament and how I saw using it to everyone's advantage. "Just wanted to run it past you for your approval. If you don't like him or any of his people, the deal's off, okay?"

"He'd have to be a real jerk for me do that. It amounts to looking a free horse in the mouth."

"I always wanted to know what that meant," I joked.

"Only problem I can think of will be our guys getting their noses outta joint over all the new hires. Oh, and you might want to run some numbers to see if we can handle the increase in payroll. Don't want the business to suffer from temporary cashtration."

"Cash—what?" Had I heard him correctly?

"Cash-tra-shun, the act of buying something big, ordinarily a house, which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period."

"Gotcha! No, we're cool if I don't pay you and me for the week. Don't worry, I'll bet the increase in business will more than cover us in the future, 'cause we can take on more business and get back to the pickups."

"Good point. It's only for a few days anyway and as long as the new guys don't eat our people before we get back, it sounds like a bit of luck for us."

I agreed and got back to Howard. Looks like I would be getting a pickup driver, a morgue attendant, personal assistant, and an alternate funeral director. I was hopeful that I wouldn't lose business while mucking about on Zodiac Island.

Apparently, Pi was my lucky number.

(o)

"I'm giving the party," Trowa told me.

I would have begged off celebrating St. Patrick's Day at a local bar had the invitation come from anyone else. I know Quatre and he were clubsters and bar dudes, but 'Ro and I were not, him in particular.

"Quatre has reserved a private room."

Nice try Tro-man. "Well, that helps."

Trowa saved the clincher for last. "Chang's bringing the Datatrons a half an hour before the party."

So, that's why Heero and I showed up right on time.

Heero had our evening scheduled right down to the last minute, so when I was ten minutes late picking him up, he actually demanded that the taxi driver make up the time.

The taxi driver stood his ground. "It's only a five minute drive!"

"Then we should have arrived five minutes ago," he countered.

Finding no way out of that argument, the man drove like a maniac and we walked in the door five minutes behind schedule.

"Right on time!" Quatre cried out when he saw us.

Trowa shook his head and pointed to his wrist, where a watch would be if he wore one. "Good job, Maxwell."

Heero sighed. I'd let him down. Ruined his record of always being on time. I was such a bad influence on him. Heh, heh…

"It is really all right," my boyfriend told me. "Chang is not here yet."

"We're cool then?" I had to make sure or the night would be a bust.

"Yes."

When Fei' and Hilde did arrive fifteen minutes later, he carried a heavy box right past us and into a back room Trowa had reserved. No one had to tell us to follow promptly. We were on him like yellow-jacket wasps on a Sunday picnic.

"Eh, eh, eh! Give me space!"

"Then move faster." Heero was in no mood for dilly-dallying.

The Datatrons sounded very cool, but having one of those little buggers in my hot little hands was cooler than cool.

"You will find that they are pre-loaded with all our numbers, Zechs' included, for instant communications." The Preventers agent looked proud as all get out.

Trowa did not. He held his device as if it were a snapping turtle. When the devices were turned on, they all "came up" requesting codenames to login. All typing came to a halt and the room was silent.

"What's with the codenames?" Trowa asked first.

"These are names for your datatrons followed by your personal codename, which you'll discover were taken from the Zodiac project. Mine is '05' so you can deduce your own."

"I have to name this thing? That is so—"

"Fun!" Quatre cheered, practically.

"Silly, I was thinking."

Quatre frowned at his boyfriend. "I'm naming mine Sandrock after my first pet tortoise. Sandrock04. There, now I can login."

Heero surprised everyone by participating with some enthusiasm. "Wing01—for where it can take me."

"That was quick," Duo whispered to him.

"The sooner I get this over with, the sooner the device is mine," he explained.

"Yeah, okay, ah… mine's Shinigami02, for obvious reasons." Duo grinned and typed in the required login information. "C'mon, Tro', be creative. You can go with 'clownfreak04' or something."

Trowa sighed and gave in. "Nanashi…03."

"What's that?" Duo asked.

Heero translated for him. "It means 'no name', in Japanese."

Duo looked over his business partner. "You are so—"

"Dry?" Trowa suggested. "How about some beers?"

"No objections."

And the party started. When the beer arrived it was by the pint and dyed very, very green. It was going to be one of those nights.

Wufei continued to instruct us on the finer points of the datatron feature set, the maintenance, and the support plan, despite the fact that no one was listening to him after he gave them the tour of the desktop. He sat in a huff.

"It's okay, babe," Hilde told him. "They'll all come running to you when things don't work right."

"That was supposed to make me feel better? I don't have time to hold their hands with those things."

"But won't you feel better when you tell them to figure it out and listen next time?" She laughed and drew a smile from him, too.

Much as he had done the year before when these people were just becoming acquainted with one another, my Heero handed out silk shamrocks and pins. I made him pin mine on my ass.

"Hopin' for luck!"

Trowa made no move to take the offering. "Are these o-fuda substitutes?"

I loved Heero's smile and this time he'd stretched it almost to the grin stage.

"Yeah, you could say that," Heero answered.

His blue eyes narrowed as they raked Trowa over, looking for a place to attach the charm. I don't know if Trowa thought he might pin it on his ass, too, but it re-animated the dude. Trowa snatched the shamrock from Heero and pinned it to his own shirt upside down.

"It will keep away the pinch fiend," Heero told him.

Trowa retracted in mock-horror. "Don't let Quatre hear that."

Oh, Quatre heard. His attention had never left his lover and mine and their conversation. I don't think he wanted Heero's hands on Trowa, even if it had only been to pin on a good luck charm. I think Trowa liked having a boyfriend who coveted him, even if he let the jealousy monster out once in a while.

And here he came. Quatre wasn't leaving Trowa in Heero's hands a second longer. I thought it was rather funny. The two guys were friends. It was good for them.

Heero went on to say, "More than 80 percent of the people of Sanc avoid being pinched by wearing green."

"Is it a big card event?" Quatre asked, politely showing interest in my boyfriend's activities. Either that or it was a way for him to hide how he was wedging himself between the artist and his boyfriend.

In his glib fashion, he answered, "As far as cards go, the greenest of holidays is a handy tent pole between Valentine's Day and Mother's Day."

Platters of bar food arrived. Waves of waiters dressed the tables in green cloth and loaded them with flatware, napkins, and plates. And pitchers of beer, not green, dotted each table.

"Oh, man!" I was at the chortling state. "Hot wings!"

While I sampled from the nearest assortment of goodies, I watched Quatre and Trowa busy in the corner of the room. On a raised platform, a stage, stood amps and microphones. Quatre opened his violin case and I nearly went into shock, but choked on a gulp of beer instead.

_He was going to play?_

We had dated and I never knew he played anything but hard to get.

Trowa stood near the stage and rang his beer mug with a spoon like a dinner bell. It got everyone's attention.

"Before I'm too drunk to do this," Trowa said, "I promised Quatre I'd duet with him. So… here goes."

Quatre had his violin out of its case and was tuning it. Trowa raised a flute to his lips and blew a few notes to test the tuning again, before launching into a fast jig. It was so cool, actually. They played through a dozen songs, all selections of Celtic music chosen for the occasion, some fast some slow, all good. We were all clapping along and Hilde danced, I think that's what she called it.

Quat waited until we'd had three rounds of beers before cozying up to Heero. I wondered what in hell he was whispering in my man's ear and why my man was agreeing to it.

"What's up? Rocks?"

"Blarney stones," Quatre said. "We are going to paint them."

This I could not believe until I watched Heero unload paint, glitter, markers, and fake jewels onto one of the tables. Like a bunch of crows, we were all attracted to the assortment of sparkly things.

"Um, 'Ro?"

"Take a rock," he instructed, "and decorate it."

"How?"

With an artistic flourish, he wrote out appropriate sayings:

**Live, love and laugh**

**Kiss me I'm Irish**

**Luck of the Irish**

**Good Luck**

**Lucky enough to be Irish**

**Oh Blarney!**

**Erin go bragh**

"Use these and shamrocks," he explained.

It helped the most when he painted the first few as examples. He painted the lettering in white and sprinkled glitter over the wet paint: "**La' Feile' Pa'draig****.**"

"I won't even try to say that. What's it say?" Trowa was first to ask.

"It's Gaelic. It means Happy St. Paddy's Day."

"Do another a different way to give everyone ideas," Quatre urged him.

"All right."

"What's that you wrote?" I asked. Naturally he'd painted up one with Gaelic words he hadn't put on the list.

"**Pog mo' Tho'n**," he explained. "It means 'kiss my ass.' This one's for you."

Wufei muttered something involving shoving datatrons into far too small an aperture in the human body to be comfortable, and Trowa refilled his beer mug.

We got the idea, blamed having to do such a silly thing on Winner, and set to. At that point Heero led the entire group in painting rocks, and turning them into blarney stones, which turned out to be loads of fun.

"Tell 'em a story," Trowa urged me to fill in time and space, I supposed.

"Okay." I put a finger to my temple and looked thoughtful, although dotting my face with glittery paint probably made me look funny. Of course, I knew what I was going to say. I'd come prepared. "When the Sanc Kingdom was old and small--,"

"That would have to be before the annexation of the surrounding towns about—" Wufei paused to recall the exact date, so you know he had to be a bit drunk.

"Yeah, that long ago. Well, the local folks started running out of places to bury people, so they would dig up coffins and take the bones to a bone-house in order to reuse the grave."

"A bone-house for God's sake?" Hilde groaned. "You know the most God-awful stuff."

"I know." I grinned. Didn't stop me! "When reopening these coffins, a quarter of the coffins were found—"

"That's one out of every twenty-five," Wufei clarified with a hiccup for punctuation. He seemed to have difficulty keeping his focus. He swayed a little as Hilde painted his fingernails with glitterglue, but didn't stop her.

"Why were they being opened up?" Quatre asked.

His diction was a bit slurred and only Trowa had an answer for him which was short, "For sex," sending his boyfriend melting into giggles.

I raised my voice a notch or two to drown them out. "Opened the coffins to discover scratch marks on the inside. This meant that they had been burying people alive, a practice commonly frowned upon."

"I should think so," Wufei agreed solemnly.

"Oh, geez, Duo--" Hilde appeared ill, but it could have been from overeating. Another reason lurked just on the boundaries of my memory.

Nope, forgot.

"To prevent this from happening, then, they thought they would tie a string on the wrist of the corpse, run it—the string, not the arm-- up through the coffin, up through the ground, and tie it to an above-ground bell. Someone then would sit out in the graveyard all night to listen for the bell. This was the origin of the term 'graveyard shift,' and someone could be 'saved by the bell'."

"Or if not," Trowa put in, stealing one of my jokes, "They'd be a 'dead ringer'."

Wufei stared hard. "You just made that up, didn't you?"

"Nope!"

"Why thank you for the brain-nudge," Hilde said, laughing. "Ugh, I think the paint smell is getting to me."

My smile turned more smirk-like. "I know one more factoid from old Sanc lore, if you'd like to hear it?"

"I would," Heero said. Bless my love. I'd thought he'd fallen asleep.

"Okay, then, you know how most people get married in June?"

"We can't," Heero said.

I sighed tremendously because he'd sounded so sorrowful, or it was the beer.

"Well, they do because way back before indoor plumbing they took their yearly bath in May and still smelled pretty good by June. However, if they were starting to smell, brides carried a bouquet of flowers to hide the body odor."

"I don't believe a word of it." That was a Wufei utterance.

"That _reeks_ of idiocy," Hilde said just before spilling over onto her boyfriend's lap in a laughing fit.

"I might argue with you, but I won't. A woman has the last word in any argument. Anything a man says after that is the beginning of a _new _argument," I smiled and inched my way toward the only table with any food. "Anyone want something while I'm up?"

"Tell us another story," Trowa urged me as if he were ordering another round of drinks.

I shrugged my shoulders and began to pace a few seconds, thinking. The gleaming metal serving trays jolted my memory.

"Got another one. Traveling back into Sanc's past, when folks with money had dinner plates made of pewter—"

"We've got those!" Quatre illuminated us. "Dozens and dozens. But… we don't use them."

"Pity," said Wufei.

"Probably for a good reason." That was Trowa about to steal another line from me. He'd heard these jokes hundreds of times, my guess, from my work chatter, so I couldn't really blame the robber.

"You are so right. Food with a high acid content would cause some of the lead in the pewter to leak into the food causing lead poisoning and death. This happened most often with tomatoes, so for the next few hundred years or so, tomatoes were considered poisonous."

"Oh, so that's why!" Quatre said excitedly. "That's so neat!"

"I think _he's_ full of lead," Hilde said. "And it's gone to his head."

"I must question the truth of that story as well," Chang chimed in, naturally. "There are lots of plants in the tomato family that ARE poisonous, and that gave them all a bad reputation."

"Maybe so, but that doesn't make my story untrue," I argued.

"Well I don't believe it!" Hilde snapped.

"The poison in lead wasn't understood at the time, Hilde my time-warped friend," I argued back. "In fact--"

Oh, I remembered another story without a Trowa-prompt and got right to it.

"Lead cups were used to drink ale or whiskey. The combination would sometimes knock the drinkers out for a couple of days. They'd just fall in their steps on their walks home."

I demonstrated by collapsing on the floor myself. Lying on my back, I could talk just as well and not totter from one side to the next.

"Then someone walking along the road would take them for dead and prepare them for burial. They were laid out on the kitchen table for a couple of days, and the family would gather around and eat and drink and wait and see if they would wake up; hence the custom of 'holding a wake'."

"What?!" Hilde cried out. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

Trowa and Heero laughed.

"Oh, for God's sakes..." Wufei groused.

"You sure know some creepy stuff," Quatre noted.

"You don't know the half of it." And I wasn't about to tell him because then he might not want to come along on our tomb raiding adventure.

The evening ended with everyone participating in Karaoke singing. There is nothing I want to say about that, or remember past the vision of Wufei warbling a love song to Heero. It could have been Hilde. Dark hair, blue eyes… It probably was, but I was a little fuzzy at that point.

(o)

I was getting used to having extra hands in the mortuary. My new secretary was the middle-aged Ms. Plum. Her first morning on the job resulted in a new filing system, an orderly updated scheduling system, and a website for Maxwell's Mortuary.

Plum gave me the royal web tour, staring with a good shot of the building on a clear day and a clear mission statement:

"Our mission is to offer the pinnacle of perfection in services and facilities, without losing our compassion and the understanding needed by the families we serve."

She had interviewed me over the phone the day before and I could see that she'd liberally scattered stuff I'd said all over, like:

"Helping families depends on a high level of dignity and care for your deceased loved one."

And with earnest testaments to:

"Our greatest inspiration comes from the firm belief that our passion and love for funeral service will assist in delivering exceptional care to each family we are privileged to serve."

It was Trowa who suggested Howard taking over graveyard duty after we returned from Zodiac island.

"We could offer longer hours."

"I don't think he'll go for that," I'd said. "He's helping us out here as a favor."

"Ask."

I did. Regardless of my ex-employer's earlier assurances that he had other work lined up for himself, he quickly accepted the night shift manager position. Okay, so Howard had told Trowa stuff he hadn't felt able to tell me. Losing his business probably stuck in his craw more than he wanted to give away to me. Anyway, this change to our business appeared on the website as:

"When you need us, we are there, 24 hours a day, every day."

Ms. Plum must have worked all night herself collecting glowing testimonials from some of our more prominent Sanc citizens.

I fell in love with MS. Plum, even though she was female and old enough to be my mother. We got along great and she adored Trowa. Not that I didn't like the guy, but I wondered what their connection was.

"She collects circus memorabilia," he said.

"And--?"

"I introduced her to my cousin."

"And--?"

"Catherine runs a circus, now and loaded her with all the paraphernalia she could ever want."

"Good man."

Trowa never beamed a smile, but his mouth twitched.

"Quatre thinks so, but for entirely different reasons."

"Yeah."

I chuckled and went back to the autopsy room. I wasn't doing the work. I was supervising my old crowd and the new crowd working together and counting the days until we all left for the island adventure.

Endive, being her usual overbearing self. "Cardiac arrest is what kills nearly everybody. What caused this woman's heart to stop is the mystery," she was telling one of the new guys from Howard's, Ned or Ed or Fred, maybe.

Andres was on the later shift and had just come in and suited up in the changing room, preparing to take over for Endive.

"I suppose you're wondering why I'm here, Divy-wivy?"

"Never. You're here to relieve me of duty. I can read the schedule as well as you," Endive said. "I wanna see what's up with this corpse, then I'll go."

"Just can't let go," Fred commented. "Don't you think I can do it?"

"Can you?" she snapped. "Don't you have a pick-up to take you out of here?"

"No, and don't think it's 'cause I can't get me one."

"I'll collect the gastric contents and see what I can find," Andres said, disrupting what he must have thought might turn into an argument.

I watched him carry the gruesome load to the sink and stated picking it over and almost stepped in to smooth over any bad feelings. Trowa stopped me.

"Let them work it out," Trowa advised.

"It's hard."

"Yep, but in a day or so they'll have to get along without us here."

Trowa- one heck of a great guy.

"Yeah. Probably so. Like you say, we're on a countdown now," I said.

I sauntered over to where 'Dres was removing the stomach contents.

Fred sniffed and commented with surprise, "Minty fresh!"

"Yeah, that's a new one on me," 'Dres said. "Can't complain, though."

"You say _mint_?" Endive asked. "See if you can find some leaves, but even if you can't, save the stomach liquid. I have an idea."

She ripped off her gloves and got the phone to the police while she read through the paperwork.

"Inspector Acht? Yeah, I'm Endive calling from the Maxwell Mortuary and Funeral home and I'm doing an autopsy on a woman here tagged with your ID on the paperwork. She arrived early this morning. You found her? Good. Did you search her trash? Kitchen. Okay, I'm wondering if you discovered several used tea bags or a near-empty tin? In particular, a type of _mint_ tea. Yeah, I'll hold."

Fred trotted to the sink and took a peek. "I can't believe she swallowed that many leaves sipping tea."

"She must have eaten the stuff," 'Dres agreed. "There, that's all of it."

"Want me to weigh that for ya?" Fred asked.

"Thanks, sure, then record the number on the form and take it over to Divy."

And Fred carried off the stainless steel bowl, happy as a clam.

"Yeah, I'm still here. You found an empty box of what? Pennyroyal?"

Another of Howard's people, a quiet mousy girl sat at a new computer monitor, clicking at light speed. "Found it! Pennyroyal is a member of the mint family. Some drink it to break up gas and prevent nausea. It really is only toxic if its oil is ingested in large amounts."

Endive shouted, "Hold on. What have you got for me, Fred?"

I met Trowa's look from across the room, his eye's eyes twinkling. Yeah, the teams were bonding pretty quick. I missed what Fred said and more details from little mouse girl, so lost in warm fuzzy feelings that I was.

"…Thanks. That much? Oh my—Inspector? Yes, the deceased swallowed a great deal. It induces abortion, but in massive quantities it can cause cardiac arrest. Probably. Uh, huh, but we'll test for pregnancy, too. Sure thing. Bye."

They completed the autopsy, closed her up, and sealed the case: a stupid, desperate teenager two months pregnant medicates herself improperly trying to induce contractions and accidently kills herself. Another death and mystery solved– the last for this team that day.

"Glad I stayed out of that one," I told Trowa.

"Glad they worked things out without our interference."

"Yeah, looks like we might have a business when we get back."

Trowa shrugged his shoulders. "A growing one. You going to be able to handle the bookkeeping alone still? Payroll alone will take hours to do."

He was right. I'd hardly be more than a glorified bookkeeper most of the time to keep up. "I doubt it. Guess I'll have to look into a service when we get back."

Trowa looked as if he had more to say. Sometimes he needed a nudge to over whatever hump he'd encountered.

"You want to do it?"

"Bookkeeping, hell no. I'm incapable, but--," he hesitated, thinking a little more. "Um, later, okay? We'll discuss it later."

"Sure."

After that, the last few days of work were uneventful. Everyone was consumed with preparations for the "Zodiac Island Party," as it had become known.

(o)

The picture was a field of yellow daffodils with a single blue iris flower in the center. I opened the card Heero had sent me in the mail and read it again:

"_**If there is one smile that makes a difference, one touch, one voice I long for,**_

_**It's yours, my lover and friend."**_

This was the first time he'd mailed my card. It was fun, I guess, but I really missed the personal touch. I missed his being there when I first saw his art so I could hear his explanation of how he'd thought it up or how he'd painted it. This way it was just me imagining the words coming from his voice.

I needed his voice so I called him.

"Hello, Duo."

"Hi. Got your card."

"That was fast. Do you like it?"

"Why don't you come over and find out in person."

"All right."

I hung up and got busy. I wanted to surprise him with a little romance Duo-style.

"Duo? You said to come over and your door's unlocked, so—"

"Take off your clothes."

"Uh, sure. Can I have a drink first?"

"I'll get you water. You undress and lie on the mattress."

"All right. What about you?"

I smiled. "No water for me. I'm fine."

"One of those moods?" he asked but clearly he'd already made up his mind that it was and didn't expect or want me to answer him.

"Here."

After bringing him his water, I watched him undress.

"This feels strange, just undressing like this," he said.

"I like to watch."

"Being There."

"What?" What was he talking about?

"That was one creepy movie with Peter Sellers. He played Chance, a simple gardener, who had never left the estate until his employer died. His entire life revolved around TV watching and his work and he quoted programs in ways that were mistaken for profundity. Like—"

He would have given me a rundown of the entire movie and would have filled the evening with movie trivia, but I had a plan. It was time to move on. I handed him a blindfold.

"Put this on."

"This?" He tried it around his hips. "Too small. Have you got something in an extra large?"

"Funny, 'Ro." I covered his eyes and tied it in place. "Comfortable?"

"Not really. But I trust you."

"Good. So lie down."

I let him lay there in suspense and darkness while I undressed.

"I heard your zipper. Are you going to join me here?" he asked.

"You'll see. Now, don't move. I'll be back in a minute and then the fun will start."

"Hn."

I dashed to the kitchen to collect my things. I heated a cup of hot chocolate in the microwave for a few seconds and filled another cup with ice I'd bought at the store.

"Is that you, Duo?"

"Shhh, yes."

I set my one cup on the floor, sat on the mattress, and sipped at the warm drink.

"Do I smell chocolate?" Heero asked.

I couldn't answer, but then I was planning to let him know what was going on very soon. I swallowed and leaned over, and without touching him anywhere else, I sucked on his limp cock.

"AH!" He nearly bucked me off. "Fuck! That feels great."

I continued to pleasure him with my mouth. Loving the sound of him moans and squirming.

Now for the fun part.

"Your turn."

"W-what?" he asked.

"Not you. Him."

While he rolled that one around, I reached for the next prop.

"There's someone else here? Duo, what the f--?!"

Then I put an ice cube in my mouth.

"Gugh!" His back twisted. He coiled. He was like a live wire in my hands. I freed my hair from its braid and spread it out over his chest.

"Him, Shinigami."

Heero tore off the blindfold and, well, attacked me. In a good way.

And when we could no longer move, we just lay there, him using my hair for a blanket, fingering a hunk in his hand.

"I almost forgot this!" And I almost had. I pulled a slim, metal-clad book from under the pillow and rested it on his stomach.

"Cold! What is it?" he asked.

"Look."

"Poetry? Thank you. You bought me a book of poems? Very old book of poems."

"Love poems. I'm not a writer like you so these'll have ta do."

"I want… just a second."

He climbed off the mattress, leaving me to chill while he visited the bathroom. When he returned, carrying a pair of scissors, I have to admit I went on prime alert. I went on autopilot, bundling my mop at the back of my neck and twirling it into a rope which twisted further into a bun.

"What are you doing?" he asked. He even chuckled darkly.

My eyes didn't leave the scissors. "What are those for?" I asked.

"I want a lock of your hair to put in the book, like a book mark."

"You already did that."

"That is a ring of hair. I keep that on my dresser at home, in my dresser. This is a bookmarker. Just a little snip."

"Oh, okay." I relented, not wanting to look like a complete wuss about my hair.

Snip.

"Now what are you doing?"

Not that he needed to tell me. I could figure it out. He bound the cut end around and around with a blue thread, knotting it in a complicated way to keep the hair together.

"Now, let me read one of these to you," he said.

"Okay." I lay on my back, eyes closed and listened, relishing the sound of my lover filling my heart with love words.

"**Love Sonnet XI**

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.  
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.  
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day  
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

I hunger for your sleek laugh,  
your hands the color of a savage harvest,  
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,  
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.

I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,  
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,  
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,

And I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,  
hunting for you, for your hot heart,  
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.

--Pablo Neruda"

Heero closed the book on my lock of hair, what he called his "March hair", and said, "Let's visit Quitratue someday."

"Okay." I could deny him nothing, especially when I had no idea what he was talking about, but he'd called my heart "hot".

* * *

End Chapter 31

A/N: I did not make up the "factoids" from old Sanc lore. They are possibly true from British lore.

TBC in Chapter 32 -- April Showers, part 1


	33. April Showers, Part 1 of 6

**Greeting Cards**

This is an on-going story arc, based on Heero's greeting cards, and updated monthly, at least.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

A/N: Thanks go to WaterLily and Snowdragon for editing the chapter and encouraging me.

**Warnings:** AU, male/male pairings, language, some embalming and autopsies topics covered.

**Chapter 32 --**

**April Showers, Part 1 of 6**

* * *

Duo POV

After the night I'd had with 'Ro, I was in an excellent frame of mind to start our adventure. "69" was our magic number. There was nothing like feeling him do to me what I was doing to him to drive us both crazy together. We even had time for a huddle under the sheets before breakfast, which helped put us both in a languid state of mind. Today was the day. I actually looked forward to the Zodiac Island Crypt Caper to begin, now that we'd taken the edge off.

Zechs had arranged for airline limousine service to Zodiac Island. Grunt-level Preventers agents had already secured the boxed supplies and transported them to the plane. The van stopped at Trowa's first for loading, and since Quatre had "stayed over to save time," we banked twenty minutes.

Next stop-- Wufei's apartment. Wufei carried out a backpack of clothing as well as a long gym bag, which was not filled with athletic gear. His treasured heirloom sword would not leave his sight, if he could help it. Due to weight and space limitations on the plane, we were each limited to a single, small carry-on bag, but Wufei was the exception. Hilde also had spent the night with him to "save time."

So now we'd stored up forty minutes of time.

And we were done because I had stayed with Heero, which also saved time because Heero's house was Zechs' place, but I gave no piddly excuse.

"He's hot to sleep with," sufficed.

My lover immediately made himself inaccessible for talking to, though. Heero submerged himself in the Ethernet, messing with his Datatron, "Wing", the moment he got in the limo, explaining that he wouldn't get a chance to touch it while he was flying later. I just let him go at it. I could watch the scenery go by in my mellowed state.

"It appears that we'll have excellent visibility for our flight, which is very lucky for us," I heard Zechs say. "Early spring weather is so unpredictable. The best weather on the island is in the fall, isn't that right, Yuy?"

"Yuy?" the agent-prince repeated.

"Dry," Heero said with half a mind and hardly lessening his speed of typing. "Warmer and drier and with less fog." If 'Ro hadn't answered the man would have asked again.

"And the fog's terrible," Zechs added, running with the fog. "Landings are close to impossible if the fog's dense."

Zechs was excited or nervous or both and kept up a constant patter all the way to the airport. Maybe this being his first real Preventers mission had something to do with his mood. I think Hilde was impressed by his royal presence and encouraged him with leading questions while lavishing him with adoring eyes. I couldn't see the effect that was having on her boyfriend, but it couldn't be good. She irritated me, good friend that she was.

I really had wished she'd changed her mind and not come. I had tried talking her out of it. I had tried to convince her how stupendously boring/dangerous it would be for her-- that she should think of the baby. I had even tried to blackmail her, saying I'd tell Wu-man what I knew, but she'd called my bluff and said she'd do it.

But she hadn't yet. I could tell because she avoided me completely until I practically sat on her lap when Wufei got up to whisper something in Zechs' ear. She just "wasn't quite ready to tell him about her pregnancy." She'd agreed, though, to stay out of trouble at our "base camp" so I shut up. I wasn't happy, but I kept my mouth shut about it.

And then 'Fei was hovering over me. "Move."

"Sure, agent-man."

I preferred the company of my "Wing" man to either Hil or the agent any time, even though I'm sure Heero hadn't even noticed I'd gotten up, gone and come back. Once I was settled back in my seat I had nothing to do but watch everyone again.

Trowa was pretty quiet, but that was no surprise. He held Quatre's hand and looked out the window. I did notice one eyebrow twitch with irritation after a few more minutes. Was Zechs getting to him, too, I wondered? Quatre may have said a word or two, but the only person overflowing with conversation was Zechs Merquise, and he had been chattering pretty much non-stop, except for the few blessed minutes 'Fei had been chatting him up.

Zechs filled us in on what to expect. "…This will take us directly to the private hangars, where, I understand, Agent Shari is waiting with our jet. You'll see it beyond the repair sheds."

"Would someone find him a magazine and distract him?" Trowa suggested.

"Do you think he'd be interested in my _Investor's Today_?" Quatre asked.

"It'll do. It only has to fit in his mouth."

I laughed.

"Trowa! That's not nice." Quatre didn't let him have his magazine, which was too bad because i wouldn't have paid hard-reaned money to see him do it. "We should all be much nicer to one another, don't you think?"

Trowa rolled his eyes but actually helped by choosing something to talk about-- a big move for the usually withdrawn guy. He winked back at Heero, who was sitting next to me so I got part of the wink, too.

He whispered behind a hand, "Zechs ought to go for this—give him a place to haunt."

Heero looked up from his toy and blinked, having no idea what Trowa was up to. I caught on once he mentioned the words "for sale."

"Hey, Merquise?"

"—and… Yes, Barton?"

"We got a call the other day. Seems like the cemetery at the top of the hill above town is for sale. It's pretty pricy, about in your market rather than mine. Nice bit of property. Interested?"

"Am I interested in investing in an old cemetery, you ask? No, I don't think so."

I had been certain Zechs would show more interest; Trowa must have, too, or maybe he was just humoring Heero. I mean, what vampire would not love to be in possession of his own land-of-the-undead property, right?

Well, this one apparently. Oh, and Heero wasn't even paying attention. He was typing furiously. When I looked, he turned the screen a tad so I couldn't see what he was doing. I guessed that he was downloading games. He didn't want me to know about his game fetish.

"Do they really do that?" Hilde asked. "Put up a "For Sale" sign and wait for an offer? On a graveyard?"

"No." That gave me an interlude to explain the under-the-table negotiations, which went into delicate sales like that, covering the time it took to get us to the airport in no time at all.

As promised and despite our being way ahead of schedule, Agent Shari stood waiting at the private hangar plane and greeted us in a professional manner. She directed us passengers to the steps leading to the cabin and showed us where to stash our belongings, while a two-man ground crew stowed the supply boxes in the underbelly hold.

Heero squeezed my hand, murmuring, "later," released it, and parted. I took my time climbing into the plane to watch him take the co-pilot's seat. A couple minutes later, I heard his voice over the comm:

"Fasten your seatbelts, everyone. We have clearance for take-off."

I waved at 'Ro, sitting up there in the co-driver's seat, and wished he were sitting with me. Sitting? No riding…

The sky opened before us, wide, blue, and clear. Sanc telescoped down to a toy town, then disappeared altogether as I pressed into my seat, and the plane rapidly gained altitude and distance.

Hilde blanched dramatically and clung to Wufei's arm. Served her right.

I passed her an annoyed look. She had started out that morning feeling queasy, another really unnecessary confirmation that she was indeed pregnant, and I bet the flight was only worsening it. Knowing that she hadn't confided her condition to the baby's father yet made me mad. It couldn't help but add to her anxiety, 'cause it was sure adding to mine.

Everyone else gripped the armrests.

"Steep climb," Wufei yelled. "Is this necessary?"

Heero twisted around to face us. "Regulations are to clear the city with a minimum of noise," he shouted over the engine roar and then the engines cut out.

"What's wrong?!" Hilde cried out.

Again, Heero to the rescue. "Part of the quiet zone. The engines will regain full power when we have cleared that airspace."

_Or not… _I grinned mostly to annoy Hilde and declared, "I love this part!"

We cruised along on the momentum from the rapid acceleration, taking us far over the land. The ocean appeared on the horizon, the engines hummed to power again, and the plane leveled off. Heero gave us a 'thumbs up' sign as he clicked on the intercom.

"We have reached cruising altitude and will be traveling for a few hours, so sit back and enjoy the view."

"The scenery is remarkable, if you like endless expanses of blue sky and blue water," Trowa commented as dry as toast.

Hilde took one look past her boyfriend's shoulders into the great blue beyond, and closed her eyes. I know she had never flown before, and when separated from the land with firm ground beneath her feet and no visual frame of reference outside, I imagined she'd feel a tinge of vertigo. Oh, yeah. She did.

I watched as her face once again drained of color, and she confided, "Guess I'm not much for flying either."

"As long as we abstain from flips, I'm cool with it," Trowa said. "View's what sucks."

"I don't know how you all can stand this," she muttered.

Wufei pulled the shade over her window. "Now you can shut your eyes for a rest. I doubt we'll get much sleep from here on out until we leave."

Without her to entertain me, my attention turned to the others. Quatre was jittery so he chattered to Trowa, who, in turn, looked enviously – my interpretation-- over at Wufei.

The agent had put on a headset and had his head back and eyes closed with Hilde resting on his shoulder. He appeared perfectly happy in quiet repose.

"Quatre, hey, leave some for later, okay?" Trowa said with a quick smile.

Quatre clamped shut his mouth with a slight blush.

"Here, you just try and get a little sleep now. We have a long day and night ahead of us." Trowa pulled him into his chest and whispered, "Sleep..."

"Really, Trowa…,"Quat objected, saying he wasn't a weakling, but obeyed, because what his boyfriend had said was sensible. "If you insist, okay."

And then there was one. Zechs seated across from me, lounging across two seats, was already sleeping. Scratch that one, too.

That left just me and my thoughts. I had an unoccupied seat loaded with Wufei's sword for company. Since there was nothing else to do and extra sleep sounded good to me, I dumped the bag on the floor and stretched out across two seats with an arm flung over my eyes. I wanted to dream about flying to distant lands and starting a life of adventure. I could picture Heero at my side and smiled contentedly. Yes, I could fit him nicely into that schema, and with that pleasant thought, I drifted off into a light and pleasant doze.

I awoke to a change in the engine roar and an uneventful landing. I looked around to see what was going on. Trowa and Quatre were still nestled together and hadn't appeared to even have moved. I could see a tuft of Hilde's dark hair cushioned by a folded jacket on Wufei's seat, so she'd fallen asleep, too. Wufei was sitting next to Zechs and deep in conversation.

As the plane taxied to a stop, Shari ripped off her pilot's headset, flipped on a touring cap, and pulled on her driving gloves.

"All up for the cottage tour? Okay then, please exit to the right and climb aboard the island van."

Groggy from sleep, we passengers mostly staggered and tottered to the van like a souse of drunks.

Then there was 'Ro. I admired my boyfriend as he sauntered over to join me. The stout breeze mussed his hair, more, and his eyes sought out mine, boring past my outer surface and targeting my heart. I was his, those eyes said.

And as nice as it was to be so very wonderfully desired, it all culminated in the fact that he wanted to make me his—he wanted to marry me. And he'd been dancing around the topic lately like he wanted bring it up again. I wasn't so sure I could be what he needed. He scared me with his intensity. And I didn't want to disappoint him. I didn't want to fail! The littlest things could set Heero off, so I knew the bigger ones must upset him a lot more.

Solo never'd had a problem letting me know which fuckups were big and which were little—they were all big. I say that now that I had a guy like Heero to compare him to, but at the time, I'd thought Solo was right. He had been the star, godlike. He'd reached down into the streets and picked me out, dragged me along into his world as he rose, up, up and up. He'd treated me like shit; I knew that now. Heero treated me like I was his world.

I really wasn't ready, I guess, to be the center of another man's universe. If I failed to live up to that, I'd feel like a universal failure, heh, heh… yeah. That sounded magnificently stupid. Maybe I was reading a whole lot more into Heero's actions and words than was there. I didn't want to be responsible for all his happiness, though. I didn't want to play shrink to all his problems as well as mine. That was setting me up for failure!

That had been more than enough heavy thinking for now. My boyfriend was looking at me like I'd spaced out on him. Time to reassure him.

"Shari's in a good mood," I said when he snuggled in at my side. "She's not snarking at us and she's wearing that jaunty cap."

"She's a trained agent and we're about to do most of her dirty work."

"At least the dirtiest part," I added very quietly, but she must have overheard anyway.

"I swept out the cobwebs and loaded the cabin with enough firewood for the weekend, Heero."

_How thoughtful! _

I could hear Quatre and Hilde muttering in back, one of them echoing "cobwebs." Oh, those delicate city-folk were gonna like this!

"I assume you want to unload your gear at the cabin first," the agent observed. "The supplies have already been stashed there."

"Yes," Heero said, "we want to see the cabin."

"What do mean by 'first'?" Wufei asked, quickly picking up on that qualifier. A tightass like him didn't seem the type to me to appreciate a diversion from the plan, especially one of his plans.

"I could take you out to the shrine."

"That is a change in plans." Nope, he didn't look at all pleased with that suggestion.

"No, we want to see the cabin first, as planned." Wufei took hold of Hilde's hand for the last few yards of the walk and stepped up his pace.

Shari led us to a large van painted in camouflage. So far, I had avoided thinking about the dark reality of our adventure. The possibility that someone could be hurt or killed was too awful to consider. We were all far too young to die. But something had sent Wufei's mood into a downturn. He looked pretty grim when I sneaked a look at him and I was feeling the tension vibrating off Zechs.

"Come with me," Heero said, diverting me to his waiting sports car, hidden from view by the larger van. "We'll meet you there," he told Shari.

I heard grumbling from the peons behind us, but, it didn't stop me from taking him up on his offer and riding on deluxe wheels. So cool. And the ride wasn't too bad until he hit the rutted, gravel road.

"Damned, bumpy ride," I complained.

"It's worse for those in the van, if that makes you feel any better." I loved how my boyfriend smirked back at the van following us.

"A little." The car lurched over a heavily pocketed stretch of roadway. "This cabin place is out of the way."

"Which is good for us. This is the road to the shrine. It's where they bury all the island's dead."

"For all that it doesn't see much traffic, or everyone drives a 4-wheel drive."

"No one comes this way. There's access into the crypt from the labs, but it wouldn't be wise for us to try that route again."

_Right about that!_ "No lab visits."

"Not with our friends."

"Not with me." Last time I was there, I killed a man. And, yeah, it bothered me. I pushed bad things back, hiding them. Out of sight, out of mind. But this was BIG and kept slipping out at inconvenient times.

"There it is- our cabin."

The cabin was at best a neglected, rustic hut. We circled around and though it in about thirty seconds. It had running water, in one small sink; a bathroom, in a separate "outhouse"; and electricity to run a refrigerator and two lights, when a storm didn't shut it down.

"We can take care of things here," Heero told the pretty Preventers agent, dangling his car keys where Shari could reach them. "You can go."

Wufei stopped her with a hand to her shoulder. "Are there any updates since we last spoke?" Wufei asked. "Something I should know?"

"Possibly." She looked uncomfortable to me and her tone made Heero turn and listen. "There are rumors, and that's all, nothing I've seen or know for a fact. But what I heard from a guard contact is that the labs created a clone of Treize."

Wufei dismissed that idea with a wave of his hand. "A clone? That's not possible! That kind of research isn't ... isn't... They're years away from creating anything like that!"

"Well, I said it was a rumor. The story goes that there are lots of clones working in the prison. Ones that were created as part of the other testing program--"

"Their search for unending life," Heero put in. He could really put the hollow "heebee-jeebees" into "eerie" with stuff like that.

"I'll bet that's what we saw. Those creepy things lying in those tubes. Clones," I said.

"Could be."

"But why him? Why Treize? I asked.

"It's one way to live forever," Trowa pointed out.

Wufei turned his attention to the cabin, and Shari traded keys with 'Ro, wishing us all good luck. As she drove away in the hot little sports car, she took away a bit of my heart along with it. I must have sighed hugely to draw Heero's attention, speaking of "stressed." He stood ram-rod straight, tense as I've ever seen him.

_And the day had started out so well._

Heero nudged me in the ribs. "Another time."

"Uh, huh. Were you thinking of a joyride after we defile the crypt?" It was a good question.

"Idiot."

I guess not.

"Just stow the stuff as fast as possible," Wufei ordered. "We must locate our target objective while it's still light out."

I could hear Trowa translating to Quatre behind me. "Next stop is the burial place."

"Are we staying overnight—here?" Quatre asked.

Us digging up corpses Quat could accept. Him waiting it out in a rustic cabin was subject to his rebuff. What a wuss!

I translated "here" as: "in this bug infested, sleeping bags on the hard floor, cold, crowded, hovel my camel collection wouldn't spit at?" and got a few laughs. Not from Quat, but he smiled at my attempt, or in contempt…

Before my fan club quieted down, Wufei cut the legs right out from under those poor camels, killing the chummy atmosphere I was working toward. "Winner, Barton, and Hilde will remain here."

"This" was not the cabin-in-the-forest, the resort-on-the-sand, or even the cottage-on-the-crypt that Quat or Hilde had anticipated.

Over their objections, he went on, "You'll provide central communications for Zechs and me to agent Shari, agent Noin off-site, and Commander Une. If anyone comes up that road, you'll be able to give us ample warning. Zechs will be next in line to hold off any intruders. Heero, Duo, and I shall conduct the search."

"That's a lot of manpower wasted here," Trowa grumbled.

"Not at all. You'll have the van and transport us."

_Well, pooh._ I could tell Trowa was steamed. I wouldn't have minded having him help in the crypt, either, but Wufei was the man in charge. Also, it was clear that Wu-man hadn't wanted Hilde to partake in the mission, but was afraid or just plain unable to leave her behind. I felt bad for Trowa, though. Quatre didn't seem to mind his minor function, but his lover wanted a bigger role. Little did I know what agreeable little Quat would be scheming later.

The cartons of equipment had to be opened and the items organized. We used the 'kitchen' area of the cabin to spread out and re-sort the items into backpacks. I ran down our checklist, calling out directions as I went.

"Heero, Wufei, since you're going inside the crypts, check that you're double-gloved and that you have a spare pair of gloves. Test your flashlights, and don't forget to put the spare battery pack where you can reach it. Same with your collection containers."

"Here." Wufei handed out nifty little devices that could clip onto a belt loop. "I know these aren't as sexy as the datatrons, but we just discovered cell phones won't work on parts of the island, and are most doubtful for inside the mountainside."

"And the datatrons?" Heero asked. He wasn't going to give his back. No sirree!

Wufei shook his head. "We can test them, but I doubt they will work inside the tunnels."

"Neglected to consider the thickness of the cave walls?" I asked.

"The datatrons were mostly bribes to get you to do this mission," Wufei said.

_Well__,__ shit. We all fell for that, didn't we?_

"Using these old-tech devices should enable us to communicate with one another at all times. Turn on your walkie-talkies and operate them like this." Wufei quickly ran through some instructions and had us test them out. "Trowa will run tests again from the burial destination after dropping us off."

Tro' muttered something ending with, "…sure, Chang." I noticed Trowa was packing a backpack of his own with additional supplies, but since he'd been talking to Zechs moments earlier I figured he was helping him. Besides, the man-stuff was coming out and you could feel the macho-level cranking up.

In addition to his family heirloom sword, Wufei had an assortment of supplementary Preventers issued arms to distribute. Quatre showed off his box of guns and ammo from his family's storage locker. Trowa had located his rifle and circus throwing knives. Heero was armed, but I hadn't gotten a look at what he was packing. Taken as a whole, I thought it was an impressive show of potential force.

I brought my 'bread knife' along from the morgue. I'd made a nice-looking leather holder for it so I could strap it to my belt like Wufei's sword. I felt like a very ancient warrior.

Hilde and I were excited to get a handgun and a rifle apiece; that is, until Heero showed off his 44 magnum– his weapon of choice. I demanded a trade: Wufei's 33-odd for it, but he refused in the nicest way possible.

I tried one more time. "I'll offer you whatever you want."

"Impossible." He turned up his nose. "I've already had everything I want."

Zechs admitted to being an excellent target shooter, and accepted the assignment to watch Heero's back. I don't know why he put it that way. He'd be watching mine and 'Fei's as well. He must have been feeling his oats or something.

Heero wasn't thrilled by the prospect, and told him in no uncertain terms, "I consider you to be in the way. In fact, Duo has standing orders to shoot _you_ if you try to undermine my efforts."

"Don't think you can intimidate me," Zechs responded. "I just offered my help and all you can do is to threaten me?"

Oooh! You could cut the testosterone with a bread knife it was so thick from all the male posturing going on!

Trowa broke them apart, telling Zechs, "He doesn't mean it. It's just his twisted sense of humor."

I don't know what magic hat he'd pulled that out of, but it worked and Zechs backed off.

"It's almost sunset, guys. We'd better hurry if we're going to get a look at this shrine," I pointed out, and for a moment Heero looked pleased with me again.

"Can't we all go and see it?" Quatre asked.

"Of course we can," Hilde said. "Unless someone wants to tie us up to make us stay?"

"That won't be necessary." Chang swallowed his objections this time. "It is a good idea for you to know the way, just in case."

In case we ordered pizza? In case we needed a fifth, sixth, and seventh at cards? In case something bad goes down, Du-o. No one was trying to lighten things up but me.

Heero led us along the potholed, weedy path to the shrine. It hadn't rained in a day or two, which was nice or we'd have been jumping mudholes all the way. Terrible road.

"I timed the walk," Heero said to Wufei. "You can get there in twenty minutes at this pace."

I wondered when he'd been here "timing the walk". Probably as a kid. It was probably a fun place to play. Either that or I was strange…

"Which means we can run it in ten or better."

"Better."

"Five?" Wufei tested.

Round two! Which could run the fastest in his best one-track mind? I hadn't known Heero to be so damned competitive before. I kinda liked this macho guy as well as the sensitive arty guy.

"Three. Max."

Wufei wasn't convinced. 'We'll have to time ourselves later."

"All right. Later." Heero smiled a gritted-teeth smirk.

Sure they would, besides, I could beat them both hands down, but did you hear me bragging my skills? No.

Heero checked his watch. "Which means, we had best walk faster now, if you want to see the shrine in the light."

"Understood."

The island shrine was an unimposing structure constructed from the same rock as the hillside into which it was built. A glimpse of slate roof could be seen over the surrounding stone wall. The wall was topped with black ironwork to discourage intruders, as was the solid-looking gate. We stood at the gate looking into the unattended garden beyond.

"I suppose it was once pretty," Quatre said generously.

"Good thing native plants are tough," Trowa said. "The rest of the place is mostly a tangle of weeds."

"I guess I was expecting something grander." I stopped myself from saying anything more that sounded dispirited. I don't know _exactly _what I'd been expecting but it would have been a lot more colorful had I designed it. "I doubt anyone important is buried in that place."

"No one visits, so nothing is maintained," Heero explained. "But everyone who dies on the island ends up somewhere here."

"Or in a wolf," I said very quietly. Heero heard, though and smiled fractionally. He understood, but the others wouldn't have "got" my dark humor.

"That could be thousands of bodies you'll have to look through!" Quatre cried out.

"Not in the restricted burial area where the people living and working here were stored," Heero said. "I have no plans to go searching through the inmate tombs at all."

"Still, it doesn't look very big." Quatre wasn't satisfied that we'd found the place, I guessed.

"I said this was a _crypt_." Now Heero was getting downright defensive over his old stomping grounds. "The burial chambers are all underground. We have to enter the catacombs to find the vaults."

"What else do you know about this place?" Hilde asked.

"I once lived here," Heero clamped up immediately, and, man, did she want to hear more about that.

"Not as much as I know," Zechs said with a smile and a casual swing of his hair. "I've spent weeks learning everything I could about these vaults, and I'm happy to supply you all with all the details."

I don't know. I was more likely to hang with Heero's childhood memories of the place than Zechs' more recent investigations. Still, I listened to what he had to say.

"Then do so," said Wufei.

"The better, older coffins should have a lead component. Those might weigh more than a quarter of a ton, so we'd never be able to open them."

"Wouldn't you expect Leia to be buried in one of those?" Wufei asked him.

"Possibly, but at least I would except to find a real headstone and foot marker—"

"Unless she wasn't supposed to be found," I remarked.

"I'm counting on that, too. I don't think Treize ever intended anyone to trace her death to here," Zechs said.

Zechs was not thinking like a villain, but I could, apparently. "In which case, he would have made her grave appear ordinary."

Quatre asked, "So why bury her at all? Why not hide her body in a box or at sea or something that leaves no traces that can be brought back and traced to here?"

Good point.

"Because he's also a superstitious man who is unsure about the afterlife, and to be sure of his own future, would be afraid not to_ bury_ her here."

"Zechs is the expert on Treize Khushrenada," Wufei said.

"Hnnn," Heero murmured. I couldn't tell if he was unconvinced of Zechs' know-how or if he just didn't give a damn, or both. His eyes on the heavy chain and padlock holding the gate shut. "We'll need something to get past this."

Wufei and Trowa both looked over the lock, which was rusted shut, and the chain was very thick.

Trowa shook his head. "I'll have to look over the cabin and see what there is to break it. Cutters of some sort."

"Tire iron?" Chang mused. "Do they still put those in cars?"

"Not mine," Heero said, reminding everyone that the hot little sports car he'd been driving earlier was, indeed, his. I got it, but I don't think the others noticed or believed him. I was wrong about that.

"So you lived here and drove around in that sports car?" Hilde asked.

I wondered when someone would mention that car.

"I covered all that at the meetings with Zechs," Heero snapped.

"Not all…"

"We can check the van," Wufei broke in. "Have you've all seen enough? Trowa, do you think you can get here in the dark tonight?"

Trowa nodded. "I'll find it fine."

Zechs cleared his throat, "Now, as I was getting to..." He had loads of stuff he wanted to tell us, I guessed.

"Tell us on the way," Heero interrupted as he set off back toward the cabin. "We do not want to be out walking at night."

"Why is that?"

"Wolves."

"WOLVES!" The outcry was unanimous. Everyone was excited by the notion of wolves-- hungry, snarling, toothy, wolves. Fairytales were loaded with them and they were always the villains. Now we could have some, too.

Heero was pressed into explaining a bit about the animals. They ran wild here after being brought to the island to keep escapees at bay. They must have found plenty to keep at bay because the population had slowly grown over the years. Since no one visited the cabin any more, Heero told us, the wolves probably wouldn't show up, but he had a healthy regard for them.

"I wanna get back," Hilde said.

I agreed, and almost pointed out how lovely a place that cabin had become, but Wufei wanted to get a closer look at the crypt first. We all peeled away from the mysterious gate to fall in line for the next scenic view point.

Zechs pushed beside Heero. "You have been inside the vaults."

"I told you I had." Heero shrugged.

"From what I could understand from the scanty maps of the tomb, the uppermost layer of coffins within vaults will be hard to examine because headroom is restricted."

"How closed off are these vaults?" I asked.

"I suspect some of the burial chambers may be sealed– as in _airtight_. Maybe not. Why?"

"Once we break one open, the coffins are exposed to the air, and the decay processes rapidly affect both organic and inorganic materials, so we'll have to work fast."

"I see. Yes, inhibiting decay is important. Where the coffins are sealed within a vault via a front wall, it would then be sensible to dismantle the front walls of the vaults a coffin's depth at a time, if we have the choice." Zechs seemed pleased with that decision.

"If we have the time," I said.

"Sounds like a lot of work and rubble to move," Wufei snapped.

Heero looked thoughtful before answering. I could tell he was picturing the place from some long ago memory. "We ought to expect most of the vaults to be half full and partly walled or capped off. Which means we can get to them without tearing up the place."

Quatre shivered, but only partly from the steadily cooling air, I suspected. The topic of exhumation was chilling to most people.

"So, what kind of...shape do you expect to find...what you're looking for?"

I embraced the moment, being the resident expert on the subject of burials, as was Trowa to some extent. "Soft tissue may be preserved in sealed lead coffins, but it can also survive wooden coffins in earth. In most crypts the majority of the individuals will be skeletonized, but some individual burials will retain soft tissue. This all means that what we will be getting into, well, the condition and completeness of the human remains will vary enormously."

By the time I finished with my explanation, we'd determined that there was no other way in. We could go no further without breaking the lock or chain.

"God, I don't know how you can talk about that stuff so casually. How can you stand the thought of digging around dead people like that?" Hilde asked.

"I'm sorry that the processes of putrefaction and of human remains are physically repulsive to you. Just be glad that there are exceptional people like us willing and trained to do it for you," I said a bit defensively. I added a toxic smile to feel better.

"It is his job," Wufei said and picked up his pace down the path. "We might as well go back now. It's getting dark."

After that, everyone jogged back to the cabin. 'Ro and I tied for first, but I don't think anyone else was even trying. Trowa and Quatre weren't even running; they were even a little bit late.

* * *

End Chapter 32

TBC in Chapter 33 -- April Showers, Part 2


	34. April Showers, Part 2 of 6

**Greeting Cards**

This is an on-going story arc, based on Heero's greeting cards, and updated monthly, at least.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

A/N: Thanks go to WaterLily and Snowdragon for editing the chapter and encouraging me.

**Warnings:** AU, male/male pairings, language, some embalming and autopsies topics covered.

**Chapter 33 --**

**April Showers, Part 2 of 6  
**

**

* * *

(o) **Trowa POV

Heero was trying too hard. He'd been edgy ever since we'd landed on this miserable island. Not that I was feeling hassle-free. I thought driving around and seeing parts of the place would bring back some memories of the place, but nada. I covered up my disappointment good enough to fool Quatre, which probably meant he was too overwhelmed with his own feelings for mine to make any impression.

To be honest, I was so wrapped up in trying to jostle my memory and watching Yuy suffer that I hadn't given much thought to my lover's sensibilities. then we reached the cabin. I guess he expected to stay at the resort, because he looked disappointed when the van stopped at a rundown shack. Well, if we were lucky, damned lucky, then his discomfort would only last the one night.

Heero, on the other hand, needed help; something his boyfriend seemed oblivious to. Sure, Duo had a lot on his plate, but I thought he could make more time for a second helping of Yuy. And here I'd come to think they were perfectly in tune with one another. I guess they were no more perfect than Quatre and me.

I'd been awed by the artist for the longest time, partly for his talent, which was enormous, partly for his determined courtship of Duo, and partly, albeit a very large part, for his hot body. Being a gymnast in college made me body-aware, and Heero was cut. But his intensity of purpose was too much for me. Duo could have him; he deserved to be adored that completely.

I was never more surprised when the artist started talking to me-- that he sought me out to confide in had been unexpected, but, as it turned out, good for the both of us. He called me on the phone to ask about Duo's food preferences and to make sure Quatre hadn't forgotten some detail in my life that Heero hadn't overlooked (and I had) and felt needed attending to. Intense, but a loyal friend. I guess he was my best friend too, odd as that was.

I remember when he broke down and told me that Duo didn't love him enough to make a commitment. I thought they were boyfriends, and told him so, but that wasn't enough for him, not for Yuy. He had fucking asked Duo to marry him! I couldn't believe Yuy'd done that. I was speechless when he told me Duo'd turned him down, but then, Duo had always been self-sufficient. Maybe Heero was too possessive for him, too.

I didn't know the answer; I didn't know what to tell him to do about it, but I thought it was something they could work out over time. Heero certainly proved himself to be resilient and got over it, agreeing to give Duo more time to think it over. They seemed to be doing okay in that department.

In the sex department, too, because, God, he even talked about his sex life.

I wished at first that Heero hadn't told me they were both subs in bed. I had incredible dreams for days after that, and I never, _ever_ wanted foursomes in my life. I _know_ it! Becoming like best friends meant I needed to "share" so I ended up revealing Quat and I were both tops and the problems that caused. Turns out they had sorted themselves out in a "turns" sort of way just about the same way we had. I guess it helped to know not all couples or couplings had to be perfect to be good. At least Yuy and I had a few good laughs over it and bonded.

I don't know if heteros share the same problems, but to be gay and find a friend to confide in was hard. Aside from the four of us, I only knew two other same-sex guys I could even call acquaintances. Men are generally more aggressive, so to find a partner that doesn't try to strip you of your manhood was another challenge. Try to get all that plus mutual respect and affection and common interests, too? The odds weren't good for finding a good match, which is why I found it amazing that the four of us were together. I didn't even care if our being together had been contrived by a bunch of lunatic doctors in OZ laboratories creating cloned, perfect soldiers that lived forever, not as long as I had a man like Quatre Winner and friends like Heero and Duo as a result.

Right now it looked to me like Yuy could use a few laughs. The guy was tense and Duo was going about supporting him in all the wrong ways. I didn't want to get involved, but friendship won out over good sense.

"Next, we stop back at the cabin," Yuy said. "We need to collect our equipment and rest a couple hours."

Duo snapped back sharply, "_Rest? _You gotta be kidding. Let's get this business done."

"Yes, I'd like that, too," Yuy said with that edge returning to his voice, "but I'd rather wait until the lab activities shut down for the night, eliminating the chance that someone might be hauling a body out. I don't expect it, especially in the part of the crypt where we will be, but it's safer. And it is the plan."

"Safer, right," Duo repeated sourly.

I was a bit put off by his irritable tone of voice. I worked with the guy and loved him to death, but he had a lot of personality and a lot less tact to curb it. I also don't think he had any idea just how sensitive Heero was. He was susceptible to heartbreak. A careless word or two from Duo hurtled his boyfriend into a turmoil of misery.

The sky was dark with a sprinkling of stars, but there was no moon to light our way, no street lights; in fact, there were no lights at all, until I pointed out the search light apparatus on the van roof and switched it on. After that, Heero concentrated on the rough road.

"Quat, I need a word with Heero. Can you distract Duo? Just get him inside for a minute?"

"I'll try."

"Thanks." I kissed his hair and told him I loved him and he bit my earlobe, the little minx.

Heero parked in back of the cabin, hiding the van behind a hedge. Everyone climbed out and entered the cabin except me and him. I touched his arm, bringing on a searing glare.

"What?"

"Come here," I dared to say.

"Why?"

I pulled him into the darkness. "I just wanted to talk."

"I have the beginnings of a headache so make it short and to the point."

I nearly changed my mind. "You seem bothered by something. Hoped you'd want to talk about it."

He shook his head and I thought he was going to tell me to mind my own business with an unkind turn of phrase, but then he said, "I was thinking that Duo needed some pressure to make a decision." He met my eyes. "To commit."

I shrugged. Damned if I could help him.

"I am considering an ultimatum after this mission is over. If he had a time limit, I think he might say 'yes' at last."

Where had Heero come up with that lame-brained idea?

"You see that in some movie lately? I mean, hell, you might scare him into believing he'll lose you if he doesn't, and agree. Is that what you want? Or he might just run. Think of that?"

He sighed and hung his head, rubbing his temples. "I want to get on with life and he is satisfied with this limbo status. If I give him forever, he will take forever. I have run out of ideas of what to do about it!"

"I understand, but why now? Why not wait until this trip's over? It seems like a bad time to complicate things."

"Yes. I was just thinking about it."

"Well, don't."

His eyes narrowed and lips pressed into a line. He wanted a better answer than that.

"Okay, you've been thinking. I just mean why can't this wait a day or two? What's changed lately?"

His eyes skated over mine and away. He stared blindly into the dark beyond where his mind seemed to go a lot. "A letter was delivered to me yesterday from Ty Keel… warning me not to leave Sanc. It was as if he knew about this trip."

"Ty…?" Oh, him. Heero's ex and a paid killer working for Khushrenada now. Just another one of our possible enemies here. "Have you told Chang?"

"No, just you. It would worry Duo and distract Chang. He knows the man is a threat. I have made no secret of that."

"Well, threatening to leave Duo if he doesn't agree to marry you won't solve the Keel problem, Yuy. It might light a fire under Duo, but right now, why don't you let it ride so you can concentrate on this?" I gestured in the direction of the shrine, I think. "It might help your headache."

He nodded and smiled. "It might. You have a way of putting things." He snorted a harsh chuckle, and then thanked me. "Can I go in now?"

"Before we freeze, yeah."

I enjoyed Quatre's hungry stare as I entered the cabin. To have the exclusive attention of Quatre Winner always set my heart to racing. I imagined being alone with him, his hands on me. My imagination stripped him naked.

"What are you looking at?" he asked me, wearing a sly grin and, sigh, all his clothes.

"You."

"Everything okay?" he asked.

"Yuy's worried about that ex of his hunting us down here; that, and his usual Duo insecurities."

Quatre smiled, looking over my shoulder. "They look cozy now."

I had to look. At that moment Duo reached over, buried a hand in a hunk of Heero's dark hair, and drew him into a kiss.

"Yeah."

"Well, Wufei recommended that we lay our sleeping bags on the floor, so I put yours over there by mine. You don't have to sleep, just close your eyes for a little while and keep me company. There's a boxed dinner for each of us. Very smartly packed, too."

"Yeah, okay." I had hoped for a little more passion to go with the bold kiss, but with all the others crammed up around us I guess it wasn't the best time to get too worked up.

When I looked across the room I noticed Zechs silhouetted against the fire and eating his sandwich. I imagined he was thinking about that girlfriend of his, Noin. She was an agent in some boat waiting for the call that we'd recovered the evidence required. That had to be dangerous, being the cavalry, the mobile unit with the guns, and I bet the man was worried for her safety. He never talked about her. He appeared cool as ice. But I bet he wasn't.

Quatre tugged on my sleeve. He was in a sleeping bag staring up at me expectantly. "Hello?"

I knelt by his side, imagining his warm smile and bright eyes searching mine in the dim light. I bent, drawing him into a gentle kiss. "You smell good."

"Me or my food?"

"You."

"Jasmine."

Did that mean he wore perfume? I didn't ask. He could bathe in it if he wanted to, as long as he looked as delicious as he did right then.

We finished off the food. We'd been so busy I hadn't noticed skipping lunch. I horsed-down the food like a starving animal, and still barely beat out Quatre. I collected the trash and bagged it up.

"There's room for two in my bag," he whispered, "because look how I zipped it together with yours. No one's looking. It's too dark."

As if I cared who saw me with him. I didn't need coaxing. I slithered into the pocket of welcoming bliss, leaving my other friends to work out their own lives for the time being. I tucked the warm blond into all my cold spots, stifled his yelps with a full-on kiss, and still I could overhear just about everyone's conversations.

"I hope this place warms up," Hilde said. She wasn't far off in the small room. No one could be. "I don't want to freeze my butt off in here while you guys are messing around in that tomb."

"That's what the fireplace is for," Wufei whispered.

I felt Quatre snicker into my chest as I watched Wufei escort his touchy girlfriend to a private corner.

"Don't be nervous," he told her.

"You think I'm shaking 'cause I'm nervous? I'm not nervous. I'm freezing. It's cold, and I've never been in a place like this," she admitted.

"Especially me with me." I heard him unzip a sleeping bag.

"I don't know what you mean."

I could see the stuffy agent wrap his crabby girlfriend in his arms and then a bit of muttering, which I ignored in favor of what was going on in my arms.

Quatre's lips brushed my ear as he whispered, "Just tell me when to stop, and I will."

His hands slipped under my shirt and I heard a lot of rustling. "I want to see you."

"But..." I said, gasping and pushing at his hands, "it's too dark!"

He chuckled low in his throat. "Braille, sweetie."

"Quat, I don't know..." my voice faded off as he finished unbuttoning and pulling his arms out of the sleeves. "We aren't alone."

"Then keep it down. I just want to hold you...keep you warm," Quatre said.

As we cuddled closely in the dark, I noticed, duh, that his shirt was missing.

"Well, I guess that would be okay."

I snuggled into the warmth of my boyfriend and felt damned lucky and happy to be there listening to the sounds. The cabin creaked with the temperature drop. The fire popped and crackled. Hilde giggled, be it ever so quietly.

"Cut it out and be quiet!" Duo yelled.

The next thing I knew, Wufei was shaking me gently. "Time to go."

I opened my eyes, but he had disappeared before I could say anything. Lanterns were lit and hanging from hooks around the room to supplement the one bare bulb over the "kitchen' sink. Quatre was pulling on a shirt and looking around for the weapons to remain in the cabin. One by one, the others stood and readied themselves for our next adventure.

"Trowa's driving us to the crypt," Heero told everyone.

"We'll have our guns at the ready," Quatre announced in his perkiest tone, "in case we get over-eager crooks sniffing around."

"Ah, aren't we the grave robbers?" Duo pointed out.

"You know what I mean," he frowned under his silky blond bangs. "The other bad guys hunting us."

I made no attempt to correct his version of the possible 'bad guys' any of us might encounter. Quatre seemed so happy and continued to gaily point out how prepared we were.

"...And if anyone gets a scrape or bruise, Hilde can patch them up."

For some reason that set Hilde off.

"I coulda been the driver too, you know, done something."

I straightened to my full height and went to open the van door. It was time to assert my manhood with the petite, dark-haired young woman before she talked her boyfriend into giving her the keys.

"I'm driving there for two reasons. One, I want to be familiar with the road. And two, I know where the 'on' switch for the roof spotlight is and am tall enough to turn it on. Hey, what's that you've got with you?"

"Nothing!" Hilde snapped and squeezed past me into the back of the van, carefully hiding what looked like a long stick. "And you gave three reasons."

She whispered some sweet nothings, I suppose, into her lover's ear then scampered back into the cabin. I didn't really get that couple, but it wasn't my problem or business. I wasn't the only one wishing to avoid conflict. Zechs climbed into the van, wisely eluding them both.

Quatre gave me a supportive nod from the cabin door, mouthing something like "love you". Whether he agreed with me or not, at least he always looked like he cared about what I had to say.

I don't know how I ever could have dated women. Brain damage. Men were so much simpler.

"Shotgun!" Duo shouted.

He laughed when Chang declared, "It's my turn!"

Heero actually held his boyfriend back from the door. "Go on," Heero told Chang.

"Getcher hands off me!" Duo screamed and trailed off into husky giggles. "Ha, hah! No fair! That tickles!"

Chang got in the last laugh this time. Men, simpler? Maybe just plain simple.

Duo, freed, loaded his heavy backpack of clothes and equipment, and climbed in back alongside Heero. I could hear them talking to each other in low voices. I slammed the van door behind him, climbed up on the wheel well and stretched my arm along the van roof to the overhead light. With a flip of the switch, the roadway for about fifteen feet in front of them was awash in light. Still, even with the help of some illumination the road's condition was deplorable.

"I don't want to break an axle," I grumbled to Wufei. "Get us stranded out here..."

"I'll keep an eye out for you."

"Thanks."

"You're doing fine."

Sigh.

Heero pounded on a side window. "There it is up ahead. Stop, but leave on the headlights until we can get past the gate and get our lanterns out."

I saw the shrine entrance ahead, slowed the van, and parked on a flat stretch off the road a ways.

I stood clear while Heero and Duo hammered at the padlock with a rock. The crack-with-a-rock method had worked on the weathered gate to the shrine's garden, but this door was intended to keep the most aspiring of grave diggers out of the crypt itself. The brained one dropped the rock on his foot, and, in a huff, hopped over toward me to complain.

As fascinating as that pair was, Wufei and Zechs' conversation teemed with warning flags, and I tried to overhear what they were saying. I guess I tipped off Duo that something was coming down and he nosed in.

"She's been under a great deal of strain lately." Zechs looked over the top of the shorter agent's head.

That didn't have the effect on Chang he probably had hoped for. Nothing made Wufei feel inferior. He carried the weight of his clan's pride on his shoulders. He pressed Zechs for more clarification without hesitation.

"Strain? What does that mean? I found her to be suspicious but not obsessively so."

"It isn't paranoia," Zechs was quick to say. "She really is being watched. She must be very careful not to slip up and show her hand."

"So, you are saying the boss of this operation is acting nutty?" Duo asked.

"_Stressed,_" Zechs emphasized.

Okay, so who wouldn't be stressed doing undercover around Treize and the hospital and keeping an eye on this operation? As long as it was just stress.

"Too bad we couldn't find a crowbar," Heero said, unmindful of the ongoing conversation.

"How would _that_ help?" Zechs snapped.

Heero looked about as affronted as I'd ever seen him and yet still proceeded to explain how he would use the tool to break the lock. I thought back to Hilde and wondered what she'd put in the van.

"Chang? Didn't Hilde hide some stick in the van?"

"Why yes!" His face cleared. "She told me." He trotted back to the van and returned brandishing the fireplace poker from the cabin like a lance. "This ought to suffice. Smart woman."

"It sure should, if it is strong enough metal." Heero tested the feel of the heavy rod, then forced it between the chain links, twisted, and snapped the links.

Okay, he impressed me with his strength. I couldn't have done that.

On the far side of the garden, such as it was, stood a low, ugly stone building. "I will explore that for possible activity," Zechs announced and loped off.

To the right about 200 yards was the gaping opening into the mountainside holding the numerous burials. It didn't look so bad, or it did, but it was too dark to tell. With all our preparations I figured that we should get this over in a few hours. Duo seemed to be of like mind and crowed at the sight of the dark hole, while his somber boyfriend and our dour agent tackled the gate blocking the entrance.

Our celebration was cut short, when the wrought iron gate wouldn't budge. Duo gave it a tentative push.

"Rusted shut," he determined.

Heero turned on him. I'm surprised that the intensity of that glare didn't ignite the gent. "Barton? Give me a hand here."

Guess I was the muscle. I tested the gate as Duo had done with the same non-results. "Break it down?"

"Yes. Ready? On the count of three–"

He and I shouldered the gate with such force that the hinges, which had been cemented into the wall, tore out the rock. We tumbled to the hard dirt floor moments before the entire iron gate gave way. As it twisted, it took down part of the supporting wall, tipped over, and fell amid a cloud of dust and falling rubble.

Duo stepped around us, fanning the air, then knelt to see if we were okay. "Help me free them, Fei'."

Heero and I needed no assistance to get up after Duo and Chang heaved off the massive gate and removed tons of rock. Nice start, gotta say.

"You okay?" Duo asked, brushing dust off Yuy's ass.

The dude was fine. "I'm okay, too."

"Yeah, I could tell. No blood and you're walking."

Next time, I should bleed for sympathy, and limp. Actually, Heero came over to check my eyes and talk to me to make sure my head wasn't screwed up, at which point Duo offered to tape up a cut on my hand, and Chang asked if I wanted to sit if I felt dizzy. I had great friends, really.

I convinced them I was okay, and then they clustered around the dark opening to the crypt, setting out gear in preparation to go in.

I fingered a sample face mask.

"Where did you get that from?" Wufei asked. "I didn't see you bring that along."

"Shall I demonstrate how to put this on and adjust it to fit properly?"

"He's been practicing to be a steward for the airlines," Duo joked.

"Oh, do you think I ought to? It's not too late for a career change," I kidded him back, smiling.

"Yes it is," Wufei said. "Just get on with business."

"Right. Well, this is our face mask system with air filtration to PP3 standard." I put it on, tightened the strap, did a slow spin on one heel, then removed it. "I think I'm done. Any questions?"

"Plenty, but they can wait," Wufei muttered. Not much of a jokester, that one.

"I got all night."

"Okay, Trowa," Wufei said in a serious tone. "Here's where you stop."

I had wanted to accompany them all in the search of the tombs-- it was a particular interest of mine, but I had agreed to stand guard back at the cabin with the others or outside the crypt with Zechs.

I was re-assigned when Zechs trotted up to tell us about the "well-used" tunnel coming up from the shrine building and opening into the shrine garden.

"I told you. It is an entrance from the labs to the shrine," Heero repeated. "A little used tunnel, but there."

"I just looked it over and it appears to be used recently and often."

Zechs and Heero were about to start a fist fight, so Duo and I moved in to drag them apart if it came to that.

Chang stepped up with a middle ground solution. "I think we need you on lookout there, Barton. It's closer to the cabin but not far from us."

I would be only a ten minute run away or a three minute car ride away from Hilde and Quatre, and I could aid the others in seconds. And Zechs would remain outside the crypt where he could spot intruders or aid the excavators. Not a bad set up, so I let Chang off the hook.

"Yeah, I can keep an eye on that tunnel and the van at the same time." I looked at Zechs and shook my head. "I can probably spot you from there with that hair."

This in truth distracted the man. He pulled his platinum mane back into a ponytail and Duo offered him a tie from his pocket collection.

"Yeah, I get it. I'll check the walkie-talkie communications then head back to the shrine."

Because Yuy determined his datatron wouldn't make any communication connections inside the crypt, I collected his and Duo's for safekeeping and lightened their packs. Before I headed back, Wufei grabbed my arm.

"If something happens to me," our eyes met and exchanged silent understanding, "then as a last resort, call agent Shari on the walkie-talkie to make an off-island call."

Me and not Zechs, I wondered? No, he probably had his own orders to follow. "No cell phone calls?"

"Correct. She has access to secure lines out; they are required for flight plans. And she will contact the backup agents."

"Nice to know we have Noin out there on official backup."

"On boats off island waiting for her word."

"Okay, but I hope it doesn't come to that."

I rang up everyone to test our communication devices from the last century. "Barton testing...one, two, three. Over."

My last call was to the cabin. Hilde answered with a curt "Hilde here. Things are lovely. Bye."

My conversation with Quatre was a little longer, ending with my reassurances, "I've been reassigned. Yeah, that's right. I'm going to be on lookout at the shrine. Yeah, the weed garden watch. Miss you, too. Over, love."

I figured the next thing that went wrong would send me into the tomb. I couldn't decide if that was really a good thing or not, but it didn't sound so good. On the other hand, Quatre was stuck with that crazy Hilde woman in what the two had to consider to be Hell House. Next time he might think before jumping in to "help" our friends. I bet he was already getting second thoughts about considering any of them his friends, Hilde especially. That had to be fun. I should have let Hilde take the driving job she so desired then I would have been stuck in the cabin with Quatre. Now _that_, I know, would have been both entertaining and pleasurable.

Garden guard duty would not. Next time, I'll keep my big mouth shut--always a good thing.

* * *

End Chapter 33

TBC in Chapter34 -- April Showers, Part 3


	35. April Showers, Part 3 of 6

**Greeting Cards**

This is an on-going story arc, based on Heero's greeting cards, and updated monthly, at least.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

A/N: Thanks go to WaterLily and Snowdragon for editing the chapter and encouraging me.

**Warnings:** AU, male/male pairings, language, some embalming and autopsies topics covered.

**Chapter 34 --**

**April Showers, Part 3 of 6  
**

**

* * *

(o) **Duo POV

Standing outside with the ruined gate at my back, I watched as Heero aimed a flashlight into the interior of the crypt, illuminating rough-hewn stone steps leading straight down to a low-ceilinged entry. Three catacombs branched off into yawning black holes.

"Down those paths we should find a numerous enclosed vaults."

"Not too bad," I said. "I mean, there's no spiders, grinning gargoyles with glowing eyes, or seven-headed guard dogs." I'd been around Heero too long. His imagination was rubbing off on me. I grinned to prove I was joking to those serious types in the company.

Wufei clicked his tongue and sighed. Zechs shook his head and rubbed his temples.

"Is this a problem?" Duo asked. I looked to Heero for help. He pretended not to know me.

_Way to play it cool… in my moment of need…_

Wufei and Zechs discussed what Zechs should do while I huffed a little then turned back to business. _Why was it Trowa could crack a joke and they'd laugh, but not at my smart-ass remarks? Maybe he had better timing? Maybe it was that dead-pan delivery? _ I lay out our tools. Some items would go into coverall pockets or be attached to belt loops, while others would remain in the backpacks. _Maybe I was just too damn funny for their plan of existence. Heh, heh, yeah..._

"I'll walk the outside perimeter and check for any other doorways," Zechs said. "This would be easier to defend if I knew that road were the only one."

"It is," Heero said, not that Zechs cared.

Wufei let him go, then joined me and 'Ro just outside the crypt.

"I might as well tell you what to look for," I began, strictly being all serious now. Wufei and Heero gave me their full attention. "It seems that DNA survives best and free from contamination in teeth and small bones. Hair is likely to be completely decayed, so don't count on finding that. So, if you find what you think is Leia's grave, collect two teeth, and in particular the canine teeth, because they are simple in shape and easily pulled out, and two metatarsals from the feet or metacarpals from the hands. Don't clean the samples in any way. Just store them in these little plastic containers. And in the ideal universe, we'll get them back to the cabin and freeze 'em ASAP."

Wufei and Heero responded with matching clipped nods. "Understood," Wufei added.

Now they were creeping me out. I traipsed closer to the cavity and stared into the darkness. Cold air rose from the opening. I was glad Trowa'd thought to bring our heavy-duty coveralls. I had forgotten how cold old caves could get. "Ah... just how cold does it get down there?"

"Above freezing, around forty degrees," Heero said as he shrugged his shoulders and took the coveralls I was offering him. "The middle path leads under the shrine itself and, apparently, it goes further into the hill back there. It's the larger space, from what I remember."

He zipped up his jumpsuit. "Then there are two outer passageways ending in the vaults with an external wall. One of these passages leads deeper underground and the other ends abruptly with most of the burials in some upper compartment."

It was difficult to understand the layout. "Too bad you couldn't have printed us out an actual map or blueprint."

He unzipped halfway and pulled out his sketchpad and penciled in a diagram. "Here's what it looks like."

"Alternating vaults have an air vent leading up into the garden of the shrine. Some vaults have no external wall, as I said, like those under the shrine. Oddly, a small number of vaults, those in that upper passageway, were linked to the shrine's heating flues. I assume as a cheap substitute for putting in real air vents. You all right, Chang?"

"Go on! I can take care of this!"

I noticed then that the agent had caught the tip of his long, black ponytail in his zipper by trying to tuck it in first.

While Wufei was untangling his hair from his zipper, we entered the central chamber. I examined the entrance to the one outer path sinking down into the lower crypt. "I'm having some real heavy déjà vu here."

Crawling through the dry, dusty opening I could handle. I'd done something like that before. I was reminded of the day I'd lost my car keys.

_It had been late, after a concert, and I was walking with my singing-sensation and secret-lover, Solo, and his roadies out in the parking lot. Some klutz tripped and jostled my elbow, and my keys flew, like a car doesn't, out of my hand and onto the asphalt. Then a foot unintentionally kicked them down through a grating cover to an underground access. _

"_Damn it all." I sloughed off my nice leather coat. "Here, hold this for me. I got to go down there to get my keys."_

_Solo had his doubts, but then he always doubted me. "Pretty tight spot, Duo."_

_He did help me remove the grate and watched me crawl head first into the darkness. Scrabbling on my belly in the dark, I choked on powdery dust, scraped my palms on sharp rocks, and slit my jeans from mid-thigh to my knee on a piece of glass, but I was nothing if not persistent. _

"_Get up here or the guys say they're going without you!"_

_One more frantic search in the dark and I found my keys. I felt good, like I'd really achieved something. _

"_You reckless, bull-headed idiot." Solo had been so angry. "What if you'd gotten stuck?"_

"_Well, I didn't and I really needed the keys a lot." _

I thought at the time that I'd been desperately brave. 'Course, Solo had never understood me. Not like Heero. Now I could tell the difference between infatuation and love. I loved Heero. _Wow, I got a revelation before entering the bowels of hell!_

Wufei unloaded a few battery powered lanterns and placed them at the three main passageways. I wanted to go down that hole even less now.

"You are sure you want to go in alone?" Heero asked me.

I didn't even want to go in at all, but I'd taken on the task, hadn't I? "I'll be fine, but thanks for asking."

Heero suddenly kissed my cheek. "I think you are the gutsiest man alive."

Yeah, I felt all daring and courageous now, too, in the pursuit of the stranger's grave. I tested my gloves and looked down the black hole again. "I hope I don't knock myself unconscious on some outcropping I don't see."

Heero tapped on my head. "Turn on your headlamp."

I'd forgotten I was wearing a headlamp. Trowa had picked up a few of the headlamps designed for spelunking at the sporting goods store, and now I fully appreciated his forethought. "Gotta thank Trowa for getting these."

"You can. You've got your walkie-talkie."

"Right."

"Down the rabbit hole for you. Don't test any mushrooms."

I would never eat wild fungi. I would never find any in this place either, but I didn't bother trying to explain that. I just smiled like I knew what he was talking about and agreed. "Okay."

I adjusted my face mask, gave my boyfriend a crisp salute, and flattened onto my belly. The light bounced off rock walls not over two feet high, then disappeared into a tunnel that steeply sloped downward. I waved one last time before crawling deeper down into the catacomb.

As I nudged past the rock entry to the lower level, I could barely make out Heero's voice shouting a few encouraging words, then it faded away completely. All I could hear were the scraping sounds of my own making. It really made me wonder about myself. _I know I didn't have to prove anything to Heero and I didn't have to do this for Wufei, so why was I risking my neck here? For Trowa? No... because I wanted to show off to Heero and Wufei, of course. What an idiot!_ I blamed it on the male hormones and inched forward.

(o) Wufei pov

When Maxwell was on his way, Yuy and I considered the approach up into upper crypt. The opening was no more than three feet high.

"I would do it, Chang, but I do not think I would fit."

"No, no... I don't think you'd be able to get your shoulders past the opening."

"It makes you wonder how they got coffins in." The artist stared up at the opening. "I can drive in some of those pitons Trowa sent with us-- into the rock here...and here, so you can climb up, but I am having difficulty imagining you doing that."

I certainly _could _climb! "Quit looking like a monkey doing math!" I shoved past him. "I'm the only one that can make it through that ferret hole. Just catapult me up there."

Monkeys? Ferrets? What was it about this place that made me think of animals? Especially those animals? Now, bats would be more likely to encounter in a cave. I hated bats, yet, here I was about to fly like one to the wall.

Reluctant to fling me to my doom, I suppose, the artist with the strength of a weight-lifter of twice his weight leaned over and made a stirrup with his hands. "Ready."

He vaulted me up to a where I found a crack to grip and footholds. I had rock climbing training and I know I showed off a bit, but I could do it alone. I clung to the rock and shimmied over the lip and past the narrow aperture of the gap. I lay on the ledge to catch my breath before pausing to switch on my headlamp.

When I slipped into the hole, I could see the downward slant of the tunnel leveling off ahead. I was slender enough to fit into the narrow slot and nimble enough to make the 90 degree angle turn, which brought me face to face with a line of wooden caskets.

When my hand grazed the corner of one, the decaying wood splintered. The debris of decomposed coffin lining and other things I probably didn't want to think about poured over one arm. It was disgusting.

"Shit!"

With all my strength, I heaved myself past the restricted passage and into the chamber with only enough head room for me to stand stooped over. I turned on my walkie-talkie and reported to Yuy.

"Chang, here. Over."

My walkie-talkie crackled to life. "Yuy, speaking. What have you found? Over."

"This place is revolting." I peeled back my breathing mask. "I'm in an upper tunnel and the coffins here look too old and jumbled together to belong to Leia Barton. You'd think she'd be in something regal. Of course, you'd think a lot of this should be different if whatever was going on wasn't illegal. Over."

"No one cares about these people anymore," Heero replied.

"I called you to say that I am moving on to the last room. Is there any news to relay? Over."

"Duo is in the lower chamber and Zechs says it is all clear outside. He said that he will remain in position, waiting to hear from you. If neither of you finds anything then move in my direction, the last opening. Now, put your mask back on. Over."

"As if I need to be reminded of that... Over."

(o) Duo POV

With headroom so limited, I had to be far closer to decomposed bodies than I liked. I groped about the coffins' detritus, looking for identification of any sort. The outer wooden coffins, cracking from desiccation, mostly revealed nothing, but occasionally I could locate inscribed breast-plates and end-plates. These 'plated' coffins grew in number as I moved further from the entrance. When I reached the end and still had found nothing of Leia's burial I was frustrated and tired of being in the confined space.

"This is stupid!" just burst out of me in a fury of disappointment.

I kicked at the last burial pile. Even from my awkward angle, hunched over, my strike hit the side of a coffin, showering me in pulverized debris. Now my shoe was lodged inside a coffin.

"Ah, fuck!"

With a hard wrench to one side, the aged wood splintered, giving way, and my foot freed suddenly. Too suddenly. My weight shifted onto my unsupported elbows and I couldn't recover my balance. Down I went, sliding backwards into a darkened side chute.

"Gah!" I yelped, followed by other nonsensical noises like, "Oof!" and "ugh!" until I was brought up shortly when my head and shoulders collided with a stout board.

(o) Wufei pov

I was close to regretting my rash decision to search the upper crypt. As I moved upwards, conditions worsened dramatically. This vault was linked to the lower vault Maxwell was investigating via the heating ducts. Water had leaked through the duct work and the warmth had encouraged bacteria and decomposition. I could hear water dripping in several places. God-awful stink passed through the mask. What good what this mask, then, I wondered?

I had thought it would have been drier in the higher vaults. It was not. I hoped Maxwell wasn't drowning.

As I crawled along the ghastly, wet passage, my hands slipped out from under me again and again. One time I scrabbled desperately to stay upright, but lost my balance and landed chest-first onto the hard, slimy floor of the tunnel.

"Ugh!"

I hated slimy, wet things, and I was fast becoming one, coated in mud and... I wiped the revolting muck off my mouth with a sleeve. My hands shook.

"Disgusting!"

I had to remind myself why I was there and try not to dwell on the horrendous surroundings. My subconscious was indelibly imprinted with an intense, profound, and unreasonable fear of slimy creatures. I had to get a grip. I think my fear of the others discovering my weakness overcome the revulsion.

I reminded myself aloud, "I have no problem with noodles, especially in the dinner form."

Hearing my voice sure and strong, no wavering there, gave me courage. I rose onto my hands and knees and crawled resolutely. I headed toward a stack of coffins, which waited like a portent of evil at the end of the passageway.

"Nothing, nothing, and more nothing. Just a pile of long-forgotten rubbish. No names, hardly anything but rotting boards. That bunch is done. Bunch like bananas. Move on. What's next? Ah, more packed like pickles... Pickled in brine and jammed in a box, then stacked in piles and stuffed...like olives."

My stomach growled. No, it was my communication device!

"Chang? Merquise here. Anything of interest to report? Over."

I punched the on button to my walkie-talkie and barked into the mouthpiece. "Don't bother me now. I'm shitty, and that's the best account of my progress. Over and out!"

I slammed the instrument off. Surrounded by the gruesome reminders of death-- the dank charnel smell and trails of dark shining goo pooling on the floor-- threatened to drive me into a panic. To avoid it, I practiced my martial arts mental concentration tricks-- and ended up thinking about food again.

(o) Quatre's POV

I remained with Hilde at the cabin, what Wufei had called the "base station," and watched at the door as Trowa drove the others into the chilling blackness.

"I wish he was staying here and not leaving to guard that _direful_ tomb entrance."

"Direful?" Words like that sent my right eyebrow to twitching. "You've been watching too many horror flicks lately, Hilde."

"But it did look forbidding, didn't it?" she said, folding her arms around her.

"I'm sure they will be all right. No one knows we're here, we're well armed, just in case, and they have got _us_ here to make certain no one comes up the road."

"Yeah."

Now what was her problem? Women were worse worrywarts than me, and that is saying something!

"Well, it's cold and…" she hesitated to say what was on her mind, giving me furtive little looks.

"And?"

"The cabin will feel a whole lot safer with him back here, don't you think?"

Oh, yes. Trowa oozed confidence. When he held that rifle of his, he looked formidable. I imagined him standing in the ring, naked to the waist, wielding a whip, controlling the snarling cats circling him, maybe straddling one. What a hunk! I was steaming up.

"Well, I think so!" she said, raising her voice.

"We must be brave and do our part," I said. I must have sounded rather patronizing because she gave me a slit-eyed glare.

"Of course, but there's no rule that says we shouldn't make ourselves comfortable," I tried again.

"None at all!" She smiled again. I'll make hot cocoa."

Over the past year, Hilde and I had spent many pleasant moments together in the coffee shop after our respective boyfriends had gone to work. I learned a lot about Duo from her, among other things. I could see how Duo and Hilde both shared a common "L2" slang and slant on life, and made it obvious how wrong he and I had been for each other. So, having had a few intimate conversations in the past helped us ease into a more relaxed atmosphere in the cabin.

"Quat? I don't see where you can turn up the fire."

"Let me help." I crawled about, examining the hearth as well. "The one in my apartment has a little brass key in the floor where you turn up the gas. I don't see a thing."

"Mine, too!"

"I should have paid more attention to what Trowa was doing when we arrived," I lamented.

"Give him a call him and ask," she said. "You know he'd love to hear your voice."

"Oh, I shouldn't disturb him. He's probably driving back now. Just shove the water pot over those coals and leave it."

I tries blowing on the glowing coals and got a face full of ashes for my effort.

A bit later, with a lukewarm mug of watery chocolate drink in our hands, we huddled as close to the hearth as possible. Pop! Spit! And little sparky bits shot out and we inched back a ways.

She said, "I hope we don't actually have to use those guns."

"Me, too. I'm going to be optimistic and say they'll find Leia Barton's grave, get what they need, and be back in no time so, then we can leave and never come back to this island again."

"Right," she agreed and shot me a grin. "They can't get back soon enough for me. We really aren't the camping sort, are we?"

I laughed. "No."

When her walkie-talkie spouted static, I think we both jumped a foot.

"Hilde here. Things are lovely. Bye." She mouthed, "Trowa."

I was ready for it when my walkie-talkie buzzed next. "Trowa! Are you on your way back?"

"I've been reassigned," he told me.

"So you'll be staying out there?" I couldn't help the whine in my voice.

"Yeah, that's right. I'm going to be on lookout at the shrine."

"Watching the over the garden of earthly delights?"

He chuckled at my reference to a lovely evening we'd spent drooling through pages of my erotic painting book collection. "Yeah, the garden watch."

"I miss you here."

"Miss you, too. Over, love."

"Over…love." I slipped the device onto my belt hook and sighed.

"Trowa's not coming?"

"Not here directly. Wufei has him on guard duty between Zechs and this cabin."

"Wufei knows how to make use of talented people, and Trowa is talented, I'll bet."

Of course, that made me blush like crazy. "Yes."

"You know, your sweetie and I danced together—that had to be… back more than a year ago. You know that story, I know. All the girls wanted to get him to talk, but he wasn't outgoing at all. The only reason he danced with me was because he thought I'd come with Duo and therefore was "safe", as in "not out to _get_ him." I mean, the guy looked at girls, but never dated any that I know of."

"He told me he thought he might have dated girls, but he wasn't sure. It's never mattered to me. I've dated girls, although the desire for intimacy never happened."

She brushed that off. "Most gay guys date girls because it's what's expected of them. So, are you attracted to certain types?"

"Um…" Hot guy types.

"Heh, heh! I'm just asking 'cause see this one time I caught Wufei looking at this pretty girl, okay? I told him to stop, because I shoulda been enough for him. He said it wasn't at all the same. That guys are hardwired to look at attractive girls. They couldn't help it, but that self-control kept them from turning into idiotic animals. My words, not his."

"I'm sure!" I chuckled along with her. "Well, I guess my wiring is switched, because I look at…attractive men—but just look! Now that I have Trowa, I'm quite satisfied."

"And Trowa, too! I've seen him watching you like a hawk his next meal."

I smiled.

She punched my arm and giggled. "Don't look so smug, buster."

"Well, you appear happy with Wufei."

"I am."

"So we can both gloat."

"Yeah." She grinned. "I brought a deck of cards. Want to play?"

"Oh, that would be nice. And I'll give Trowa that call while you deal."

I pulled out my walkie-talkie and rang him up. "Hi! It's Quatre! How are you?"

The thing crackled like he was climbing out of a paper bag to talk to me. "Hey, Quat. Nice to hear your voice. I'm okay. It's quiet, cold, dark, boring as a frozen-over hell."

"Hilde and I are going to play cards. It's all quiet here, too. I guess that's a good thing, right?"

"Yeah, better quiet than the opposite."

"Oh, what I wanted to ask was how do we turn up the fire?"

"Turn up…?"

Trowa laughed a loud, loud laugh. He laughed long and hard. I'd said something very, very silly, I guessed.

"I'm pleased to have brought you so much mirth tonight, Mr. Barton."

He calmed down. "You have to keep feeding it fresh fuel to burn."

Well, that made sense, and when I understood that the pile of wood outside the cabin was the fuel and after he gave me a few tips as to how to "feed" the fire, I was all set. We settled into some semblance of comfortable conversation and entertainment.

I don't know at what point we both got fed up with the cold, but we started packing the open boxes and folding away the sleeping bags without a word. No matter what, we weren't going to sleep in that place. When the others were done we wanted to be ready to leave instantly. It was too quiet. We remained on edge, waiting for a call or the sound of a vehicle.

It was, however, another kind of sound that broke the silence of the night.

(o) Trowa's POV

After Quatre's unexpected and hilarious call, nothing interrupted my solitude. I paced the wall like a caged cheetah. I stepped around the ruined gate, padded into the dreary shrine garden, and approached the crypt entry where sometimes I met up with Zechs doing his rounds. I knew every shadow, rock, and the names of a few of the stars overhead. Nothing moved.

I was on full alert for any deviation in the dead stillness. I swept my flashlight over the formless mounds. Light glinted off stagnate water and floating grey-green sludge pooled in a chiseled, marble fountain. Colorless tiles, gray pavers, blanched skeletons of dried up vegetation, everything washed out, dulled by the artificial illumination. I wished for something-- a dry leaf blowing across my path, a mouse scavenging, a moth attracted to my flashlight-- something living and breathing, or at least animated. Nothing stirred. Not even a breeze. Sighing with disgust was all I could do, before I turned and walked back along the path I'd just walked.

Well, not all. I could start talking to myself, so I did.

"Hope they find what they're looking for before I start banging my head against the wall."

My thoughts wandered back to Quatre. Now _he_ was warm, breathing, and most assuredly alive. He wondered how he and Hilde were getting along for the hundredth time. Rather than revert to more sole conversation, I dragged out the walkie-talkie to find out.

"Yo, Trowa here. How are you doing? Over."

"Um...not bad," came my lover's voice. He tried to sound convincing, but even through the crackling distortion of the communication device I could tell his voice shook.

"What's that I hear in the background?" I held the earpiece firmly to my head and cover my other ear. I heard the sound again. A keen moaning, inhuman and undulating eerily, distinctively– "Wolves! Are there wolves around you?"

"Yes, I think so. We heard them start up a few minutes ago. They've been getting closer. Hilde is at one window and I'm at the other– with rifles. I-I don't think they can break in. We'll be okay. It's better if we can keep them here than scare them off your way, right?"

"Let me call Wufei. Over."

I held the walkie-talkie and stared at it as it buzzed ineffectually. "Pick up, Chang!" I suddenly felt very alone. And very uneasy. I was needed somewhere, and it was not here, in this lifeless–

The walkie-talkie crackled back to life, with Quatre's voice breaking through. "Trowa! Trowa! Come in!"

My heart missed a beat. "What?! I'm here!"

"They're at the door and scratching! One of the windows is cracked! Should we shoot them?"

"Only if the window breaks! Hold on! I'm coming," I barked in fury at the animals and switched over to another line immediately.

"Zechs! Damn you, what's wrong with _your_ signal?" I punched at the device. "Duo! Wolves at the cabin. I'm going to help, then come back."

I finished my report, then, before I heard a reply, snapped off the walkie-talkie, and stashed it into my pack as I pulled out the handgun and stashed them both on the seat beside me in arms' reach.

I was hard-pressed to think about damaging the van as I barreled recklessly back to the cabin. I pushed back bloody images of ferocious wolves tearing Quatre limb from limb and drove hell-bent on not letting that happen.

In the light of the bright beams I could make out a pack of at least a dozen savage beasts clawing at the door and bounding over one another to get at Quatre and Hilde inside. I roared up in a cloud of dust and slammed on the brakes; the screeching of brakes caught their attention.

I honked the horn repeatedly and drove into the midst of the pack, nudging them back and away. I hadn't the heart to run them over– not yet. I would, if I had no choice, but that wouldn't necessarily do anything but maim some innocent animals and ruin the van.

The smaller ones took off howling, disappointed to have this bigger, noisier, more determined beast interrupt their good time and pushing them off their prey. I grabbed the handgun and shot twice over the heads of a tightly knit group of wolves, which had been boldly springing at a window. Those dispersed into the darkness, wailing their despair as well.

There remained two: the alpha male and female.

"I'd hate to break up a mated pair, so _git_!" I bellowed in warning.

The female laid back her ears and snarled in defiance, while the male backed her up with threatening growls. They had no intention of giving up easily. Their discipline impressed me. They stood their ground, eyes trained on my every movement inside the van, not fooled, or at least undaunted, by the mechanical beast without.

"Damn you for making this hard," I shouted as I slipped the gun into my pants and reached for a different weapon.

I watched two pairs of ears twitch as I opened the van door and stepped out hoisting the fire-poker Heero had used to break into the shrine.

"Go!" I roared, jumping forward hoping to startle the wolves into action.

And move they did, but it wasn't in the direction I'd reckoned. The female moved faster than I'd thought possible, launching herself at my throat, while the male circled around to my back.

"Stupid–!" How stupid could I have been to have gotten myself in a trap like that? I was suddenly glad that Chang wasn't here to see what I'd gotten tangled up with. For some reason, I imagined receiving a condescending scolding from the Preventers agent—"Wolves can smell fear"-- as Rover and his pack of mates take me down.

I whirled around the iron rod, smashing it into the attacking wolf's head. The animal howled in agony, rolling out of the way, but quickly regained her feet, blood dripping from her ear. My shoulders and arms ached with the effort, but I had no time to keep an eye on her. Behind me, the scuffling of paws was the only warning I had as the male pushed off from the ground.

I spun to meet the oncoming wolf, having the forethought to hold the poker point-forward as the massive weight pounded into me. The poker caught in something, nearly wrenching from my grip and sending pain shooting up my arm and down through my chest.

I scarcely slipped to the side, avoiding the butt-end of the iron rod as the weight of the animal flattened me onto the hard earth. Pinned above me was the wolf, writhing in agony around the poker, which had pierced through its rib cage and out its back. Flashing teeth and claws slashed in the air missing me by fractions of inches I wished were more. I had to move!

I gathered super-human strength from a rush of adrenaline and shoved the hundred-plus-pound animal off my chest and staggered to my feet.

My shoulder throbbed and lights burst behind my eyes with the shooting pain. I nearly fell straight back down. "What did I do to my shoulder now?"

"Watch out!"

I heard the cry of alarm and swept my long, sweat-soaked bangs away from my eyes, but only in time to see a shadow flicker. I managed to rotate my body to the side, swearing loudly for ignoring the injured female. This time, my left arm exploded in pain as sharp claws ripped my jacket, tearing through the cloth like wet tissue and hooking into my flesh. I thought for sure I was a goner.

A loud blast shot through the cacophony of noise.

I cracked open one eye in time to see Quatre drop a smoking rifle. Hilde was laying down cover for him, so I guessed the other wolves were creeping back.

"Trowa! You're hurt!"

I was, but I was alive, and more shocked by his protecting me than by the injury. Next time I opened my eyes, I could see a hunk of blonde hair. He was gripping me under the arms and Hilde had my feet, hauling me into the cabin. God, that hurt!

For the next half hour or so, they set about washing and tending my wounds. I gulped down a few pain killers and gingerly tested the wrapped arm, hissing with pain.

"The wolves aren't out there now. You scared them off, but you scared me to death dancing around with them," my boyfriend told me.

"Wasn't dancing--" I insisted.

He hugged me carefully and kissed my head. My lips were just fine, but he seemed to think I was too fragile to excite.

"You have to keep it still!" Hilde insisted. "You'll get it to bleeding again. There's a puncture wound that should stitched, but I've taped it really good—_if you don't move_."

"Hilde, why don't you use this sling to wrap his arm to his chest so he can't use it?"

"I don't think I _can_ use it, sling or not," I said.

"You'll try to. I know you." Quatre gave me a knowing look, one I hated because he was right.

"Your shoulder is not right. I think it's out of joint so this will keep that fixed in place until we can get you to a hospital."

"Thanks," I muttered, gritting my teeth against another wave of pain. I really was thankful for this the girl's take-charge attitude under stress. "You make a great nurse."

"You should lie down and rest," Hilde went on, buoyed up by my encouragement, I guess. "We'll call that Shari agent and have her arrange for transport off this damned island."

"No, that would endanger everyone else in that crypt," I told her.

"Then wrap up in a sleeping bag over by the fire and stay warm," she said.

"But we can't stay here," Quatre said. "It is far too dangerous. "I'm not going to be a sitting duck dinner for another pack of wolves! Let's just take the van back to the others and let them know what's happening. Trowa will be far more comfortable stretched out in the heated van."

"Yeah, but…" I muttered.

Hilde rested her hands on her hips. "I sure would be. Okay. I'll start loading the van with important supplies."

I sat up, leaning into Quatre's arms. "That will take too long. The wolves will be back soon." I didn't know if they were out there right then or not, but I wasn't about to risk our lives over some supplies.

"While we were waiting here, we did some packing." Hilde and Quatre looked at me. I'd probably said something, but I don't remember what.

"You think we were having a tea party here?" she scoffed. "It will only take me a minute to finish and load everything into the van. We might as well all wait at that shrine as here. At least we'll be together, if not safer."

"You're already looking better." Quatre wiped off the trickle of sweat running down my temple, then leaned closer and kissed me softly.

"Yeah, he looks fine," Hilde announced.

I thought of the quiescent fountain at the shrine, the eerie stillness broken by only my footfalls. It beat wolf-pack central. "Probably right."

I could walk fine- stiff, but fine. Quatre held off a tight knot of curious young wolves with a couple shots, while I used my good arm and switched on the overhead beams, started the engine, threw it into gear. Quatre was last to hop in before we tore off down the road to the shrine. I steered with my right hand, while my left remained bent at the elbow and tightly bound to my chest. A weak crackling noise followed by a buzz came from under my jacket.

"Is that your walkie-talkie?" Quatre asked.

Without a free hand, I couldn't answer it. "Yeah, but forget it."

"I could call Zechs, maybe on mine."

"I'm driving as fast as I can. We'll be there in a minute, then I'll just go see them. There, it shut off on its own. I called them when I left my post. Wufei's probably just checking back. Maybe they found the burial."

* * *

End Chapter 34

TBC in Chapter35 -- April Showers, Part 4


	36. April Showers, Part 4 of 6

**Greeting Cards**

This is an on-going story arc, based on Heero's greeting cards, and updated monthly, at least.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

A/N: Thanks go to WaterLily and Snowdragon for editing the chapter and encouraging me.

**Warnings:** AU, male/male pairings, language, some embalming and autopsies topics covered.

**Chapter 35 --**

**April Showers, Part 4 of 6  
**

* * *

(o) Duo POV

With a hard wrench to one side, the aged wood splintered, giving way, and my foot freed suddenly. Too suddenly. My weight shifted onto my unsupported elbows and I couldn't recover my balance. Down I went, sliding backwards into a darkened side chute.

"Gah!" I yelped, followed by other nonsensical noises like, "Oof!" and "ugh!" until I was brought up shortly when my head and shoulders collided with a stout board.

Luckily, I hadn't knocked myself out; however, I had slid far enough to get wedged into a weird spot I never would have discovered by looking. I touched my sore head and discovered a rising bump rising under a mat of damp hair.

"Oh, man—!"

Shadows danced off the rocks like moving creatures, nearly scaring me to death.

"Aah!"

But, it turned out to be caused by the light from my headpiece playing off the surfaces glistening with seeping water.

"This place sucks royal."

It had to be one of the creepiest places I'd ever been stuck. Then I saw a brilliant flash of light off a smooth patch.

"Metal?"

I quickly reached up and adjusted my headlight, which had been knocked awry in the accident, then turned to examine this new find. It turned out to be a fine brass plate engraved with elegant script. I polished it up and read: Leia Barton. Aside from the nameplate, the box was in good condition, but was nondescript.

My walkie-talkie crackled with static and then Heero's voice came over.

"Yuy here, love. Over."

"H-hello? 'Ro? You won't believe it, but I think I found it! Just now! Yeah, there's a nameplate that says: Leia Barton."

"Be careful. Do you want me to come find you, for backup?"

"Not yet! I'm going to open it and then try for the samples. Ah, over."

I set the walkie-talkie to the side, then used my trusty breadknife to pry open the lid. The rims parted slowly. I shouldered the weight, pushed, caught and held the edges as the seal gave way and lifted. Again, I put my knife to use, embedding the point into the coffin body to brace open the top with the knife handle.

I took a moment to give the corpse a cursory look. The body inside was covered in linen cloth. Pushing away the yellowed shroud, I revealed a smiling, white skull. Embalmed or not, it took very little time for decomposition to completely remove the skin and flesh of humanity.

"Don't think; _do_," I muttered aloud to myself. If I thought too hard about what I was doing I just might start screaming at the horror of it.

I pried loose a few teeth and popped them out, carved off a finger and a toe, dumped the remains into a sterile pouch, and wrestled my blade free from the wood. Dust flew into my face as the lid slammed shut, and I was grateful for the mask.

I stashed everything into my small pack and crawled up, hoping I could pick my way back to the main cavity without further mishap.

My communication device sputtered before 'Ro's voice came through. "Duo? Are you all right? Over."

I had to stop to retrieve it, remove my mask, and think of what to say.

"Yeah, just a minute. I'm in a really cramped space here and the mask is in the way. There. Okay, I collected the bone samples and I'm on my way out."

"Sounds good. Was it...difficult?"

"In what way do you mean that? In a desecrating-someone's-grave kind of way or in a could-have-used-a-hand kind of way?" As the adrenaline keeping me going was wearing off, a pounding headache was settling in making me crabby. "Sorry. I just keep getting this feeling that I've been stuck in a cave before. Creepy. No matter. I got the goods and I'll be out momentarily. Over and out."

I clipped the communication device onto my belt loop, yanked the mask up over my nose, and continued creeping slowly back up the tunnel.

(o) Wufei's POV

I fumbled with the next group of coffins, searching for identification or signs that any one of these could be Leia's burial site. It was nasty work and I continually had to distract myself from the moldy contents, the black sticky ooze, and slimy, damp wood I was handling with more pleasant thoughts.

I thought about Hilde, certainly a pleasant pastime. I wondered if the time was right to bring up the subject of marriage. How did a man know when it was time to settle down or that he'd found the right woman to settle with? I think I was ready.

I certainly wanted a family. I was ready. I felt she was the perfect mate for me. What it would be like if she did happened to get pregnant? How would she feel about carrying my child?

"How would I?" I wondered out loud.

Then it occurred to me that I hadn't heard from Hilde all night and hoped she was safe. Trowa and Quatre were trustworthy, but I hadn't wanted her to come along at all. She had been so very persuasive. Now, that fond memory was enjoyable enough to mind-wipe me for several coffins, but then my walkie-talkie buzzed.

I clicked it on. "Chang. Over."

"You can come back, Duo. Duo found her. The search is over."

"Yuy? Are you saying Maxwell found the coffin? You're certain? Over."

"Yes. Over."

"Excellent. Notify Zechs, please. I'm on my way out. It is very… tight in here."

I assumed Heero would be there when I dropped down from my crypt hole and inched my way down the rock wall. Instead, it was Maxwell.

"Whoa! You sure are dirty!" Duo said with a flinch.

"So are you."

"Yeah, lucky me. I got a hell-hole. Hey, at least I found what we came for, right?"

"We have achieved our goal."

I joined Duo looking over the stolen material with a marked lack of enthusiasm. "Pretty great, huh? So, we can go now? Maybe make something of the rest of the weekend, right?"

"That would be ideal. Did Yuy go out already?"

Maxwell held out a page torn from Heero's drawing book with an arrow pointing down a dark tunnel. Duo tipped his head to the side, indicating the third tunnel into the mountain. "He went 'thattaway'."

"It says on the back that he'd be back shortly and that his battery ran out on his walkie-talkie. Have a seat. Oh, and keep that mask on. We've stirred up dust everywhere."

"Not me," I said. "I was making mud pies." I corrected the fit of my mask, then asked in a muffled voice, "Has anyone told Zechs or notified Trowa and the others?"

"Heero said he would after I reported my find. When I came out of the hole and found his note, I looked outside and didn't see Zechs on guard duty so I assume he went to get Trowa so we can load up and leave."

I'd never seen Duo so unenthusiastic about an achievement and marked it up to the nasty work and exhaustion. Obviously he wanted to go after Yuy.

"Go on, I'll follow you in. You know you want to go after him."

I was right. He flashed me a grin. "Okay."

The tunnel was wide and dry, and Maxwell had to comment on it, as he did everything he encountered. The man left nothing to my imagination.

"'Ro picked the easy route. Roomy and clean-- we can stand up."

"Far better than what I had had to endure. Hold up! There's a narrow gap here. We ought to look."

He tore off his face mask. "Huh? Is that another side tunnel? Nah, 'Ro wouldn't have fit in a place that small. He knew I'd already found what we'd come for. Forget that and keep to the main one here."

"We don't know what we'll find. He _may _have gone this way."

"Okay, just a look, though. We have what we came for, and I don't want to push my luck."

"We only need to look for signs that Yuy passed this way."

The passage was narrow with sharp turns, but not wet, steep, or littered with debris. Doing it with swords strapped to our sides, or in Duo's case his very lethal-looking knife, was a challenge, but I was not going to traipse about these tunnels unarmed or leave my clan's heirloom behind.

"Looks new by the clean rock and used," he observed, "by midgets."

He was having trouble maneuvering in the tight space and was last to step into the gap beyond. He nearly ran me down.

"Hey!"

"Shhh!" Didn't he ever shut up?

"Whoa, would ya look at that?"

"I am looking!" I said.

Instead of wooden coffins, hundreds of clear, plastic body bags were stacked horizontally, bounded by steel dividers to keep them in place. I took out my datatron and recorded my observations.

"They must be fifty deep," I said, "and as many rows over here."

"Fuck! The bodies just keep going back further into the mountain. There could be thousands and thousands."

"Tens of thousands."

He moved cautiously to the nearest bag and fingered the end. "Toe tags just have a number. You suppose these are dead guys from the jail or the nuthouse?"

I shook his head, my lip curling in disgust. "No, they look too neat, orderly. Look at the bodies. They are mostly alike, or of a couple kinds."

"They look unfinished. I know!" he shouted as he realized what they actually were. "It's where they bury their test subjects."

I felt an unwanted shiver pulse through me. "Dear Buddha! Let's get out of here. We have the main passage to search."

"Not that way!" I argued to go the opposite direction certain that "forward" was the other way, but Maxwell thought I was turned around. A directional device would have settled the problem, had I had one.

"I'm sure!" he boasted and took off, leaving me in the dark.

Someone had to keep an eye on the lunatic, so I trailed him. Naturally, since I had been correct all along, after a couple minutes we were back at the opening to the main chamber room.

"Ah, shit!"

"I told you we were heading the wrong way, but would you listen? No! Now we've wasted more time. I'm going back to get Yuy—alone if necessary!"

Duo raced across the room to the exit and looked out. "Hey, Zechs, you there? Heero show up?"

When I approached Duo, he spun around, ripping off his mask, and looked worried for the first time. "No one's there!"

"Zechs must be doing his perimeter walk. We can renew our search for Yuy."

I thought he'd be excited to finish what we'd started. He shook his head and pushed me to the side, clamping onto my arm.

"You hear that?" he shrieked in my ear.

"No—Yes!"

Next thing we knew, Treize, looking better than he had any right to, floated into the room beneath a voluminous cape. It was Treize. It had to be. He looked just like his pictures. He had come from out of nowhere, or so it appeared, although I thought later the he must have come through the passage we hadn't finished exploring. He certainly hadn't come from the clone-corpse storage room; that would have been too much of a squeeze for a man his size.

"Treize Khushrenada," I informed Duo.

"Aw, crap!" Duo complained.

Now this tall oddly attired man stared over my shoulder, alarm growing on his pale face. I looked back to see Merquise just appearing at the cave's entrance.

Maxwell patted himself down looking for a weapon, I guessed, while I, well, I didn't know quite what to make of the apparition except that he had a hand on a sword pommel. I felt for mine and took up a defensive stance while Duo went about talking the man to death. Firing a gun would be reckless. It could be more dangerous to us than to my target if I missed and the bullets were sent ricocheting off rock walls.

Duo began the sparring with his customary verbal attack. "What are you doing here in a getup like that? It's ridiculous, though, gotta say… that sword of yours is pretty damn sweet. Can I see it?"

Treize drew the sword, taking the more hostile approach.

"Nice job, Maxwell," I said. Just like Duo to stir things up. Naturally, being the professional here, it would be up to me to restore calm and smooth things over. "I don't think we've been properly introduced," I began, taking the formal more officially sanctioned approach.

But Treize pointed the sword to the side, moved it further from Duo's outstretched arm, and shook his head. The man smiled a patient smile, as if he had to merely endure "the naughty child" one more time.

His eyes remained fixed on the man behind me, towering above me, as he said, "You shouldn't have brought these others, lieutenant. It's time to go. This way." He gestured with the long sword, pointing toward the gaping, dark passageway.

"Just you hold on there, mister!" Duo shouted. "Where's 'Ro?"

The man's eyes shifted to Duo, his expression blank. "Row–?"

"We all came here for a party, if you have to know, not that it's any business of yours. So, if you don't like us being here, take it up with the resort management. Now, you have to have seen another guy, or passed him when you came in from that tunnel."

"I have come for Lieutenant Milliardo Peacecraft."

Maxwell took it upon himself to carry our side of the conversation. "Well, that's your problem, you mindless drone! Far as I know, you haven't got an appointment with any of us. Now, I got more important things to do than argue with you."

I didn't know how close to the truth he'd come with the name calling. Treize wheeled around, swinging his sword.

"He is mine!" Treize yelled.

"Wrong!" I shouted, blocking the attack with my sword in a most advantageous move, and giving Duo the opportunity to get away. "Go on! Find him!"

Duo didn't wait for the sword man's permission. He sped past us down the passage to find Heero and, hopefully, bring him back to help us.

Zechs appeared stunned to the core at seeing the madman of OZ. I grabbed at my fellow agent's shirt. "Get out of here and get Barton!"

Treize roared, "Barton? Barton is dead, the duplicitous villain!"

I parried another thrust. "Move! Trowa doesn't answer his call! Those are orders, agent!"

Zechs, previously frozen in place like a fish filet, reanimated under orders. "Yes, Sir!"

(o) Zechs POV

Stunned by the sight of my former superior officer, I had been unable to arrange my thought processes. Not until Chang commanded me to. I dashed in the direction opposite to Maxwell, down the tunnel, out into the cavern, up the stairs and out into the open of the shrine garden.

Trowa was nowhere to be found. I had called him in as soon as I received word that Duo had discovered Leia's remains and gathered his evidence. He had been here then. I checked the road for the van. Both Barton and van were missing.

I whipped out my walkie-talkie and yelled, "Barton! We need back up here! Over!" Now, Trowa wasn't even answering. "Winner! Damn you anyway! Pick up!"

A shot rang out, the echo bouncing off the stone walls.

"Ah!"

My walkie-talkie exploded into fragments. Someone was shooting at _me_! I returned to the relative safety of the crypt, out of sight, and stared back out into the darkness, gun drawn. I hoped Trowa had returned to protect the others at the cabin and was safe. The thought that he'd been ambushed and our van stolen would have meant our mission was doomed.

_Ping!_

Another shot and a scampering of feet. The shadows came alive. I fired to pick off a possible enemy, buying me a few moments to haul out my automatic. Whoever was out there, I would not let them get past me.

(o) Duo POV

I left behind the sound of shouting, scuffling, and the clang of metal on stone, but not because I wanted to! My friend was in trouble but I had a terrible feeling my lover was in over his head, too. I ripped off my pack and dug into the center compartment for the hand guns. I had returned my trusty blade, my 'breadknife', to its scabbard at my hip, freeing a hand for carrying a gun.

_What had happened to 'Ro?_

I pushed away all kinds of nasty visions of him hurt and lying bleeding someplace.

_What was with Treize showing up?_

I removed the safety from one of the guns, stuck the other in a pocket. Setting the headlight to a lower level, I stepped cautiously down the rock staircase just about the time I heard the pounding of feet coming up, many feet.

Not Heero's shoes, either, unless he'd become a centipede. Not good.

I spun about and headed back to warn Wufei.

(o) Wufei POV

I parried skillfully with the tall and equally talented man. Possibly he was the better swordsman; he stood a head taller, at least, but I was quicker. I could see that one of us would slip up eventually, and it could just as easily be me as Treize. He didn't look old at all. From the history Zechs had given us, I was imagining an aging man. This man was hardly thirty!

My attention was diverted by the sound of footsteps. For a second, I guessed it was Duo returning with Yuy in tow. No! It was Duo, but alone.

Wrong again!

"There's a mess of dudes after me!" he cried out.

I could not battle them all single handedly. I plunged my sword again, tearing at the robes and connected with flesh. Treize staggered backwards. I had my break.

"Head for the exit with Zechs and Trowa!" I commanded. I gauged my distance to the slimy, high passage. "I can't believe I am voluntarily climbing up there again!"

I took a running start and leaped, looked for the hand holds in the poor light, and scrambled up.

(o) Trowa's POV

"Oh!" Quatre cried out as we arrived at the shrine. Shadowy forms surged around the tomb entry. "Who are those people?"

I ran the van off the road, jumped out, and slammed off the lights. I was grateful for the horse-tranquillizers Hilde had given me, or whatever kind of painkillers they were. I wasn't concerned about my strength holding up or damaging myself more. I was riding pretty damn high.

"This is bad." I pushed Quatre back into the front seat. "Stay here and guard the van and Hilde!"

"But you're hurt! Shouldn't you stay here and I--?" The question died on his lips under my determined gaze.

"There's no time to argue. I'm moving in. I need you to fire off a few shots to distract them." My eyes pleaded with Quatre's for understanding and compliance.

He acquiesced with a curt nod. "Right!"

Hilde pushed forward. "I can do something. I _demand_ to help. I can aim, target shoot."

I stared her down a moment before I decided to take my chances that she wouldn't shoot me in the back.

"Okay. Come with me. You'll watch my back until we get to the wall there, see it? Then stay behind that and cover me until I go in. Then, I want you to fall back to the van and guard it with Quatre, understand? No heroics!"

"Just yours… Oh, fine," she agreed and climbed into the back of the van to get her shotgun.

_My lover was going to be so mad at me for this_, I thought.

(o) Wufei's POV

I hated caves and graves, so I gritted my teeth and closed my mind to my surroundings. I had to ignore the smell of decay coming through the mask; my ghoulish work exposing more of the sticky tar of what Duo informed me was decomposing soft tissue from the bodies. I ripped apart the burial cases and collected skulls -- more than any weaker soul could take—and whispered apologies to these souls. I begged my ancestors for understanding and strength.

"This is not the rot inside a corpse," I muttered over and over.

From somewhere outside my morbid world beat a report of distant gunfire, reminding me of how little time I had to waste. I worked frantically, piling up dozens of white, grinning skulls, and then rolling them all down the passage to the opening. I desperately hoped that this risky, utterly disgusting, strategy would work.

_Where had Yuy disappeared to? _

It wasn't possible that he would just run off. I hoped he was okay. I hoped Hilde was safe.

I regretted not taking the time before entering the crypt to say something reassuring to her. Something personal. Something _intimate_.

Another volley of gunfire shook me out of my dream world.

"Here I am thinking of sex!" _Worse, I was talking to myself!_

My mind cleared to crystal clear acuity. Treize had sounded so odd, not that I had ever met the man for real, but it was as if he were possessed. I guessed that the man had gone insane. Experimenting on people like that—he had to be a mad man! Or maybe he was one of those cloned soldiers?

"Right!" I shouted, excited by this inspired logic. Hadn't Agent Shari told us about a rumor? Is that a copy-Treize?

Just then, the hollow voice from below intoned, "Milliardo! I must talk to you. Come out!"

I scrambled to the lip of the lofty opening and peered out. My face throbbed where Treize's sword had struck my cheekbone. Opening the jaws of one of the skulls, I jammed it full of mud and rocks from the passage, packing them down hard.

"This had better work!"

I hazarded one more look out the hole, and saw Duo slashing out with a huge knife. The brave idiot! Why hadn't he run when I told him to?

I yelled at the tops of my lungs hoping the braided manic could hear me. "It's not Treize. That's his clone. It isn't a real man!"

I aimed then threw the bony projectile down atop of copy-Treize's head as hard as possible. "_Banzai!_"

Yes, I shouted a Japanese word in my excitement.

(o) Duo's POV

The place was a madhouse! I couldn't see 'Fei anywhere but there were these guys in cloaks swarming the cavern and Treize was at the center of all the excitement. I didn't know whether to start shooting or not. Bullets bouncing off the rocks could be just as dangerous to me as them. And then Treize came at me, so I went for my knife. I hoped I wouldn't have to killed anybody—again.

Over the din, I made out Wufei's voice. It was coming from overhead, but I couldn't see him. "—Treize… -- clone. It isn't a real man!"

That I could believe. That explained the cloaked men I was fighting. They were the fighting minions. Created things, fashioned from what, I didn't know. I especially didn't want to know how me and my friends came into play. Why we'd been used, tagged, and listed by the labs here.

However, knowing that I didn't need to hold back any more, I lashed out one more time.

_Thunk!_

This heavy rock, projectile thing just slammed into my opponent's head. My knife connected with the man's gut, sending the Treize clone crashing into the wall behind me with such force that the wall crumbled, enveloping the creature in a fall of rock.

I looked up in time to catch sight of Wufei launching another bone-bomb at a cloaked figure running his way. "Bombs away!"

I signaled him with a 'thumbs up' before confronting my next attacker. A wild thought occurred to me; I had an idea.

"Chang! Toss me one!"

"Catch!"

I caught the heavy skull, grimacing as I ran my fingers along its smooth surface; the eye sockets were like bowling ball finger holes. With a short windup, I fired off the skull, sending it skittering it to the ground, where it shot off spinning like mad, knocking cloaked men over like wooden pins.

My plan, such as it was, worked me away from the stairs and closer to where Wufei was hanging out. I slit the throat of the any man blocking my way. I had not thought I was a bloodthirsty man, but it was me or them. Actually, my attackers had not yet hurt me, as if they were not certain if I were important or not. I reacted like a berserker, though, hitting, cutting, destroying anything or anyone in my path.

One man came up behind me and ripped off my face mask. I whirled around and stabbed him through the heart, silencing him forever. I moved another step forward and spotted Zechs' pale hair rising above the moving mass, his muscular arms striking out with his rifle butt, cutting down the opposition in his path, reminding me of a warrior out of a story book.

I caught sight of Treize: limp, eyes closed, and immobilized against the wall, taken out. I felt oddly unsatisfied and empty. I jumped when something dropped from a point above my line of sight, and a hooded attacker crumpled to the ground. I traced the trajectory and found Wufei, grinning like a frenzied demon, thrusting another grisly missile out the passage gap.

I felt a rush of relief, knowing that I wasn't the only one caught up in the bloodlust. We weren't doing too bad either, I thought, until I heard a roar of excitement and more ageless minions appeared at the main entry.

There was no escape. We were doomed. And Heero?! _Heero, where are you?_

I couldn't get to my walkie-talkie. _Where was_ _Zechs? Trowa?_

_Wait. Trowa had called me about something. He was going back to the cabin for something. What had he called about?_

When I had last heard from Trowa, I had been too busy to listen carefully.

_Had he said wolves? Wolves!_

Anguish swept over my mind when I considered the kind of terrible situation Hilde was in-- protecting our worthless shit from wolves.

She had both Trowa and Quatre with her. And they all had guns and knew how to use them. Possibly_ they_ could get away. I hoped they were better off than I was...

(o) Quatre's POV

I could have strangled Trowa, but he was out of reach. He treated me like some precious porcelain relic, while neglecting his own injury! And I could almost swallow my pride, but then he let Hilde protect his back! That was insulting! I forgave him only because I assumed the injury must have affected his judgment.

I watched Hilde lay down a thick volley of shots, enabling Trowa to make his run all the way to the shrine. I just knew she had had no intention of hiding in the van with me, so I reached for our medical bag and my guns.

As soon as I saw Trowa's head disappear past the ruined gate, Hilde called back to me with this manic grin. "Move on out!"

I guess I should have been pleased that she was inviting me along.

While in the cabin, I had watched as Hilde filled her knapsack with a variety of hypodermic needles. She'd explained how some contained relaxants. She'd also stowed tape, scalpels, and other first-aid supplies, and snapped it shut before I could ask her any more questions. I know Trowa swallowed antibiotics and something to reduce inflammation and another for pain. I wanted to know what particular mix of drugs she'd given him, but that would have to wait.

Now, with the sound of gunfire all around me, the first aid kit seemed to be a valuable thing to bring along. I grabbed it along with my firearms and made my run. I knew Trowa hadn't wanted us to do this. I knew he wanted us to remain behind in comparable safety, but right now the van didn't feel so safe and I was absolutely _not_ going to stay behind.

"He ducked in there," Hilde told me as we raced past the fountain. Whoever had been shooting at us was either dead or pursuing Trowa.

I brushed past her. "I hear shouting, fighting in the cave."

"I'll be last," Hilde said. "In case more attackers to come in behind us I'll watch your back. Don't worry; if anyone comes I'll scream bloody murder. They won't sneak up on you."

We started down the dark stairs and immediately ran into Trowa and Zechs.

Trowa looked mad, so I looked just as mad back at him.

"You were too badly injured to do all this running around," I stated as tartly as possible. "I shouldn't have let Hilde give you all those painkillers."

"Quatre! What are you doing here and... Hilde?"

"No, go back--!" Zechs shouted. He wasn't able to finish as a cloaked man jumped onto his back.

I raised my rifle and slammed it into the hooded end of the man, and he crumpled over Zechs' back. What pleasure I felt doing something! "That's one!"

He shook off the dead weight, clamping a hand over Trowa's shoulder for support, and looked me in the eye. "Thanks."

"Argh!" Trowa groaned as pain from his shoulder injuries and staggered into me.

"You're injured! Forgive me. What happened to you?" Zechs asked. He helped prop up Trowa and get him back onto his feet.

"Wolves," Hilde blurted out as she pressed past us. "C'mon! I hear Wufei calling!"

We plowed into the fray, Trowa and I tagging behind.

The entry chamber was dimly lit by lanterns scattered around the chamber. I assumed Wufei was responsible for their placement, since they were marked with Preventers emblems. I wondered if he was aware he was advertising Preventers involvement. Then I got a good look at what was going on.

"I see Duo!" I yelled, and shot over my shoulder to Hilde, "There's Wufei!"

Duo heard my shouting and kicked an attacker in the gut as he turned to look our way. "Yes! More troops!"

I watched him elbow a man out of his way and set out, cutting a swath to meet up with us.

"It's great to see you," he said, and then caught sight of Hilde, who was partially hidden in the deep shadows behind Trowa. "She should be at the cabin." His face mask was long gone; his coveralls torn at the shoulder, revealing a patch of grimy t-shirt, which in better light would have looked dirty blue.

Trowa leaned to the side as Zechs reached around him, swinging his weapon and knocking out two hooded men before they could grab Duo. He caught another on the backswing.

"Ah, ha! I knew those golf lessons were good for something!" Zechs crowed.

"I heard gunfire," Duo yelled over the din.

"Outside," I shouted back.

"Good, too dangerous in here." Duo's hand flew around over his head simulating bullets bouncing around. I could feel his alarm when his eyes rested on Trowa. "Whoa, Tro'. You look, well, you've looked better."

_I should say so!_ His hair was matted, his shoulder wrapped, and his arm was bandaged and tied across his chest. His skin looked clammy, dripping with sweat.

"Wolf attack," Trowa shot out, just before he ducked a short staff one attacker was wheeling, allowing me space to run out and trip the man jumping on him from behind.

"Wolves?" Duo asked.

"Later."

"Where's Wufei?" Hilde asked, poking at Duo. "I heard him."

"Wufei's up there," he said, pointing to the opening to the upper chambers with a blood-stained knife.

The blade caught the flickering light from a hanging lantern and glinted wickedly. I couldn't see a thing up there.

"You're hurt bad, Tro. Stick with Quatre and I'll try to protect Hilde."

See? Even Duo put me in the role of protector!

Trowa used his rifle like a cattle prod, batting away at the men who seemed intent mostly on getting a hold of Zechs. "Yeah, hurts like hell, too. None of these guys are using their guns, are they? Most don't even have weapons at all!"

Duo jumped agilely over my latest victim to get closer to Hilde. "Not any more. One wave came in with guns but we got them. These are all clones, at least we're pretty sure they are, so don't mind hurting them." He hacked an attacker before Hilde could raise her gun.

"Where's Heero?" I asked, batting away an attacker who was clinging to Zechs' hair and attempting to drag him to the ground.

"He went down the farthest passage, but no one's heard from him since I found..." He punched an attacker in the face, sending him into the man behind him. "...Since I found, oh yeah, did you hear I found Leia's coffin?"

Trowa left off swinging, grabbed me with his good arm and leaned his weight onto my shoulder. "Great, so we can leave this shit hole. Let's go get him."

"I think I should get you out of this mess," I told my bad, bad lover. "You've been running on adrenaline and it's wearing off."

He chose to misunderstand me and shouted at Duo, "Quat and I are going for Heero!"

Duo nodded, but we were all too busy blocking attacks to go far. I found it best to stand behind Zechs, who was very strong and tall. One swipe of his huge gun, and three men, or cloned men, fell. A rock flew from above, nearly taking off the tall blonde's ear. As it fell it clipped my shoe and bounced at my feet.

It was a skull!

"Ah!" I screamed.

"Damn it Chang! Aim!" Zechs swore.

I looked up to see if I could spot Wufei. Had he thrown the skull? He was splayed out on the rock face thirty feet up and crawling down.

"Ya gotta be real impressed with Wufei's show of strength," Duo remarked. "I think I'll take up rock climbing later, if I ever get out of this place."

"So, that's the plan?" Hilde asked me.

"I guess we're all going through that passage—the far one where Duo thinks we'll find Heero." I rolled the skull out of the way so Trowa wouldn't rip over it. I wanted him to rest, but clearly there wasn't any safer place to take him.

Duo took the lead pulling along Hilde, I supported Trowa, and Zechs guarded the rear. We pressed forward until we were regrouped with Wufei. His face mask was off, caught in his tangled hair.

"You made it," he said. "Barton, you look awful."

"I don't feel great either."

We passed the grisly scene of the Treize-copy's burial, Duo explaining what had happened while Zechs smashed in the "face" of another attacker. The rest of the way we continued to fend off the oncoming enemy, stumble, and get stepped on. It was chaotic, and then as we dipped into the tunnel, Duo backed into me.

"It's my walkie-talkie! Quat, can you reach it? It's gotta be Heero!"

* * *

End Chapter 35

TBC in Chapter36 -- April Showers, Part 5


	37. April Showers, Part 5 of 6

**Greeting Cards**

This is an on-going story arc, based on Heero's greeting cards, and updated monthly, at least.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

A/N: Thanks go to WaterLily and Snowdragon for editing the chapter and encouraging me.

**Warnings:** AU, male/male pairings, language, some embalming and autopsies topics covered.

**Chapter 36 --**

**April Showers, Part 5 of 6  
**

* * *

(o) Heero's POV

Curiosity killed the cat, but it is what makes the scientist tick and adds creativity to the artist.

With my friends stationed outside and in, I had a lot of time to myself, so I circled the entry chamber to the crypt, snooping. It was more of a cavern carved out of the rock than a room. In my multiple circumventions of the subterranean space, I had come upon no more than the original three passageways. Wufei had taken the upper, Duo the lower, so I took the one at the end which led deeper into the mountain. I knew where that one led; I'd played there before.

A minute or so into the passage, my hand felt an opening to one side I didn't recall being there before. I was not certain if I had made a real discovery or if I had simply forgotten about it. Possibly I had made a real find after all and this was a recent entrance to the tomb. What I discovered was a room for storing clone test subjects that had died. I spent a long time examining the area, making certain there was no way out except for the way I had come in. I had never seen so many dead people before. Other than the sheer quantity of corpses in varying stages of decomposition, bagged and stacked in orderly rows, it was uninteresting.

I was on my way out of that eerie side room to continue my explorations, when I got Duo's call. The good news: Duo had located Leia Barton's burial and collected the samples for later testing. I returned to the entry chamber, where I left a note directing Wufei and Duo to follow after me down the third passageway.

After I left them a message, I dashed down the passage. If my memory was correct, I would enter another large chamber before continuing on in a tunnel, boring through the mountain to the underground laboratories. I should have waited for the others or not gone at all, but I was excited. It was just my curiosity. I wanted to see a room I'd once played in as a child.

_Were my drawings still on the walls?_

I was only a teenager when Keel had threatened to destroy everything I created. I took to hiding my drawing books behind shelves at the downtown library. Since he was here on Zodiac Island, I wanted to know if he'd found my wall art and destroyed that.

I justified my actions; it would only take a few minutes to look then we could all leave. That was what I was thinking about, not paying proper attention to where I was going, when I heard the safety slide off a revolver and a brilliant flash of light blinded me.

"Don't move or you're dead." The assassin stood in a flood of light, holding a lantern in one hand and a SIG handgun with factory installed Crimson Trace® for night shooting.

My hand automatically twitched, going for my gun, but then I hesitated and dropped the hand to wipe my palm over the loose leg of my coveralls. _No reason to make him think I was armed_. _Not yet_.

Oh, yes, I knew that voice and the gun, one of an arsenal I'd handled in the past. Whether he was a faster draw, a more accurate aim, or a more deadly killer than I, was a mute point. I was already in his sights. I needed time for my eyes to adjust to the light.

My gun was in a deep pocket and would require eight seconds to retrieve and fire it-- ten if the walkie-talkie was in the way. I'd be dead before I touched cold metal. After all the precautions we'd taken, I should have had the gun more accessible than that. Idiot. I'd slipped it into a pocket without thinking, now would I pay for that error with my life?

Sweat beaded under my clothes, in spite of the chilled air. I rarely sweated unless I was at the gym, because I handled stress extremely well and avoided unpleasant exertion. Love-making, for instance, was acceptable. Perspiration ran down my back, and I was feeling ill. He always made me sick to my stomach.

As my eyes adjusted to the light, the darkness retreated to the corners, and the face of Ty Keel emerged-- the face to match the voice of my nightmares.

The assassin examined me in a fixed stare. My skin sizzled where his abrasive stare swept me. Hot, cold—I ached. I tried to remain standing straight, but my shoulders wilted.

_I was lost! There would be no escape._ No, those were dark fruitless thoughts, I reminded myself; the kinds Ty wanted me to have so he could control me.

"You look like a bundle of uselessness," he said.

I could feel his hands on me, counting ribs. Next, he would beat me into submission, unless I could get away. I wanted to fly away through the gaping hole widening overhead. _Smell the sea air? _ Outside it was spring. I could fly to a meadow and look for wildflowers to paint.

_But, no!_

The darkness closed in on me again and the air turned stale. Fantasizing an illusionary escape wouldn't solve my problems. I pictured Duo's face and imagined him standing there with me. I channeled my lover and it helped. I drew courage from his cocksure strength.

"Oh, well," I said with a shrug of indifference, "I shall have to choose someone else to write my obituary, if that is the best you have to say about me." It was, I admit, a weak attempt at humor, but only Duo could pull off "Duo" on command.

"I shouldn't think you were concerned with obituaries– you are so young yet."

With the gun pointed at my chest, he picked at my coveralls, and I had to fight the reflex to withdraw from his touch as he ran his free hand over my back, down my side, and over my ass to my thigh.

"Is this the new fashion?" he asked. "Tacky, even for you."

God, I wanted to break his arm in two. I would not let him abuse me again. "So, I am on trial?" I asked making sure my voice stayed firm.

"Call it that, if it pleases you," he said. It seemed to me as if he were straining not to hit me. I hoped he permanently maimed what was left of his psyche with the effort.

"I understand," I said. "In that case, I should tell the truth. What I am wearing is appropriate for entering cold, _dirty_ caves."

I was speaking to a cruel man, quick to anger, and arrogant. I didn't want to forget that, but I also didn't want to let it overwhelm me. He removed his hand to gesture at our surroundings, and I felt a weight lift like a suddenly disappearing headache, leaving me with the illusion of weightlessness. I was no longer a boy. I was a man with a lover who valued me. I was a successful artist. I was something that mattered now.

"Caving?" he asked with a sneer. "When did caving become a pastime of yours, unless you're considering taking up cave painting again?"

And, yes, I could make out a few of my paintings on the walls as my eyes acclimated further to the low light conditions. The colors had not faded in the dark, but moisture strains had muddled the lines. I had to smile at one of the affected pictures. One of the figures appeared to be jerking off when he had actually been depicted carrying a sword.

"This is funny to you?" my antagonist asked.

"Caving is no particular interest of mine. Friends of mine enjoy it, and if you draw the wrong deductions from that then it is your fault, not mine."

Standing up to him felt good. My mind cleared. His moves became easier to read. I think he disliked my tone, because his eyes widened before the dark brows drew into a frown. As his face distorted into a supercilious smile, I prepared myself for a personal attack.

"You should wear make-up. It's becoming on a young man of your sort. You're soft, pretty, and perfect for make-up. But not too much! You want to look vulnerable, but not prettier than the girls."

That was weak. He was off his game, and I was reading him well. His attempts to screw with my head were not getting him the results he expected, was my guess, which made me wonder what exactly he would try next? He might just enjoy taunting me until I break down, but I was not going down easily.

"I shall remember that," I said, then promptly forgot it, because I had no need to hide from him in a fantasy world anymore. Duo was in the real world, and I wanted to share my life with him.

My thoughts moved elsewhere. I was concerned for the welfare of my friends and Duo especially. I had planned to be gone only a minute to investigate the last passage. Duo had secured his prize, so it was only a matter of collecting the rest of the group and leaving. I should have just waited for the others. We would have been on our way home by now.

It had been a gamble and I had found my wall art. I also wanted to find the door connecting the crypt to an underground tunnel to the laboratory. It was just for curiosity's sake, but that was what killed the inquisitive cat. How many lives would have to be sacrificed to satisfy my overactive curiosity? My friends had only the one life to lose and they were not cats, or sacrificial lambs, or laboratory rats—not anymore.

I had, however, determined that the passageway still did lead to the lab, because that was how Keel reached this point. Unfortunately, he intended to drill me for information, and more, probably--but I would never, ever let him have sex with me again.

_How long had we stood here playing a game of wits? _It seemed like hours. My keen sense of time did not operate in the absence of data. No sun, no twilight, no comfortable routine. Next I guessed he would talk like we were old chums.

Ty's voice broke through my revere. "I'm glad you sought me out in private." He laughed without substance. He meant nothing he said. "In any case, a little praise for delivering Barton is due you."

"Ah, thanks." I swallowed back the words I wanted to say.

"But I'm more than a little concerned that you chose to bring your little Preventers agent friends here. I'd been told you were going to the beach."

So, Une had passed on that misinformation. That had been part of our cover story. The question was: did Une know who Ty Keel was, or had the information trickled down to him? The man was waiting, fingers drumming on the lantern in one hand, impatient as always.

"Change of plans." I said. I was grasping at straws and not confident I could diffuse the situation with witty repartee.

"Can we move on to business then?" Ty was not asking, he was informing me of his intention to move onto unpleasant subjects.

I guess it had been Duo's influence on me, but I chose to reply with heavy, and undisguised, sarcasm. I lifted one foot and set it down in place as if I couldn't move. "Apparently not."

His hand came out of nowhere, and the hard slap to my face stunned me. Stars exploded in my vision. I nearly lost consciousness.

"Don't toy with me like one of your idiotic friends, and do not lie to me. Why are you here? Why did you bring them to this particular place?"

He could feel the imprint of Ty's hand on my cheek, stinging, the blood rising to the surface. It worked to concentrate my mental faculties on the problem at hand. I blinked away tears and looked directly at my "ex", eyes still watering, and asked, "Just to satisfy my curiosity, why are you covering for Treize Khushrenada's mistakes?"

He did not evade my question or pretend a misconstruction, even if he did not know which mistake I was interested in. Still, he asked, "Why? Because it is no business of anyone's, and the information can disturb lives best left at rest."

"It is Trowa's business," I countered, "and I'm making it mine."

Ty looked away to set the lantern on the rock floor and lowered his gun slightly.

_Opportunity! _I jammed my hands in my pockets, hoping to find a tool or weapon. _Wrong pocket!_

I had to get a grip on myself. I couldn't let that man rattle me so much! I thought of Duo conducting autopsies day after day, always the calm professional. He kept his focus on the important duty he had to perform to society and his customer. I could do the same.

"I suppose I could tell you everything before you die, if you are interested?" Keel's voice had changed, softening, but still edged with dangerous cunning. I knew all his tricks, but almost missed this one.

It happened so fast, I nearly let the words pass by without comment as I located the communication device and a loose battery. _No wonder it had stopped working; one of the batteries had fallen out! _ I worked the back cover off and turned slightly in order to hide my activity, but my eyes never left his. I had to keep him engaged on my face and not my hands.

"Yes, I'd like to know," I said.

"It's complicated but not a long story. Love affairs can be so messy."

My fumbling knocked the second battery loose. I nearly cried out in anger, but smacked that down to ask, "You mean Treize and Leia Barton? I don't recall ever meeting her, did you?"

"Possibly as a child. _He_ however has lived for a very long time, keeping his youthful appearance. He knows the secret to long life."

I nodded, understanding, and pushed one battery back in place. I hoped it was in right and not backwards. The number of possible combinations... I had no time to try them all. One down, seven more combinations to go...

"Right." I stuffed the second battery in and pressed the open-the-line button. No signal. Bad luck. "I have seen a few of his less than successful results."

"Not pretty, I agree. It would have saved so much time and trouble had I received the complete treatment, but that's not how it happened. You see, what you don't know, what I discovered secretly, and has not been told to anyone but you, now, was that Lady Une also had a fling with Treize."

"No." I gritted my teeth to keep from screaming in frustration. The battery slipped and I got it back, turning the sweat-slicked battery around until I was pretty sure it was in the opposite position it had been before, and pushed it into the slot. The springs held as I pressed the button to open the line. For joy, it worked! I hoped Duo would pick up the call and hear this.

"Ha! My feelings exactly. Treize really loved that Barton woman best, you know, but she betrayed him. Women always do. She was transferring evidence of the lab work to that traitor, Dekim Barton, and his White Fang organization of turncoats."

"So, Khushrenada murdered the woman he loved?" I asked.

"Not directly. He sent Odin Lowe to do that, but not before she managed to get a letter to Zechs. She also told the boy, er… Triton Bloom, everything. At least, Treize thought so."

"He was so scared that she had told Tr-Triton the family secrets, he tried to kill him?" I wanted to pump him for as much incriminating information as I could, before he killed me, or tried to.

"_Father_ flubbed that, didn't he? Got soft on the boy. But he lost his memory and that was all the counted."

I was not about to tell him how much Trowa had regained, but it was tempting just to rub his nose in his _craptastic_ failings. I grinned inwardly and silently thanked my lover for his colorful vocabulary infecting mine.

"You have done your share of killing lately," I said. "Noventa…" I thought I might test another theory and added, "Mariemaia."

He snapped to attention. "Not her! Noventa murdered her after seeing her with that Triton boy. He claimed Triton knew everything and told her about it, but I know that wasn't true. I knew it then!"

"You cared about the girl then? She was carrying your child when she died."

He had not known that, apparently.

"What do you mean?" he snarled. "How would you know a thing like _that?_"

The man lost his temper and blew up, waving the gun wildly in my direction. I kept my eye on the thumb on the safety again. Should it move… I had to calm him down.

"She was autopsied. Read the police report if you don't believe me."

His agonized expression told me he might even have loved her, but like all twisted minds, his took one pain and turned it in on itself to make another for somebody else.

"Maxwell's Mortuary, of course. And I'll bet your lover got his rocks off discovering that! Just one more reason to kill him. He takes you from me, mutilates my… young girls' bodies…" His voice trailed off with his thoughts.

I readied myself for a new topic.

"Maxwell should have been dumped from the program! Keep the street trash out of the gene pool… Revenge will be sweet."

Oh, fuck! I did not want him putting "Duo" and "revenge" into the same sentence. I wanted him to tell me everything he knew about the lab work.

"Were you part of this program?" I asked.

Short-cropped hair, square jaw, the flinty grey eyes of an assassin drilled into me, but did not hold my eyes. He looked at my hands, chest chin, swept the cavern.

"I was dropped in favor of you." His face screwed up into a nasty smirk. "You were the _perfect_ specimen."

Hardly. "Me? Superior to Ty Keel? Who ever thought that?" I asked.

"The doctors of OZ, of course! Doctor J, he was excessively proud of your abilities. Odin fell for that crazy man's assertions and took you in, trained you.

I had a momentary flash of mechanical-looking goggles and a cybernetic right arm on a man urging me to "choose your own fate."

"The doctors," he practically spat the word, "selected prime meat, pumped it full of chemicals, and removed samples to grow even more perfect soldiers that would live forever." He dove close to me, his breath sour in my face. "Then the doctors chucked out the garbage. And here, it all comes back? Vacationing? More like a sewer backup!"

I pretended to ponder the situation while listening carefully for signs that my friends were on their way.

(o) Quatre POV

I took the walkie-talkie from Duo's back pocket. I could hear it crackling. "Who could be calling?" I held it up to my ear to hear better over the din.

"I'm getting some static," I said. "It's Heero! Now I hear him. He's with someone, I think."

I stood stock-still, not wanting to miss a word of what the stranger was saying. I felt the blood drain from my face.

"Where is he?" Duo demanded. "In there, right?" He pointed into the dark passage with his long knife.

"I guess. He's not talking to _me_. He's with someone and it sounds… like he's in danger!"

Duo took off. "That's good enough for me."

Wufei, stone-faced, pushed Hilde, me, and Trowa ahead of him, intent on his goal and oblivious to the crush of bodies and continuing fighting, letting Zechs handle it.

"I hear 'Ro's voice," Duo called over his shoulder, taut with excitement. "Up ahead!"

I seized his elbow, preventing him from running blindly into the chamber. "Wait! We need a plan. Listen first to what's going down in there."

Duo scowled back at me. "Okay, here's my plan: get Heero and get out."

Trowa squeezed in close, listening intently to the conversation coming through the walkie-talkie. I felt the catch in his breath when he tried to move his arm. I was about to ask him if I could help, when I heard Heero call out the name of the man he was with.

"Ty Keel—did you hear that? Heero just said the name!" I whispered as loudly as I dared.

Trowa said, "Ty warned him not to leave Sanc."

"When was tha--?" Duo started to ask.

"Shhh…"

(o) Heero's POV

"First, I want that Bloom kid, _Barton_." Ty cocked his head to the side. "Could that be him now, coming to your rescue?"

I could hear activity down the main passageway, too, only I figured it was Duo-- Duo and Wufei, at last. I tried to appear unconcerned and shrugged my shoulders. It was important that I appear confident, which is why I smiled so sweetly to my molester, thinking all the time how too much of my life a smile had been stretched across my rage, like a tightrope across a volcano's cauldron.

"I can go get him."

"Too late, he is on his way or dead. You had your chance, now you can wait and see how everything has been thought of."

"Like a toy puppet," I muttered beneath my breath.

"What did you say?"

I shook my head. I thought I heard noise in the tunnel behind us. I wished my tormentor would shut the fuck up.

"No matter, when Treize discovered the arrival of so many persons of interest, he ordered his army to find you and let out the wolves."

I tried not to react to that news, but my past experiences with the island wolves had been traumatic. Where would the animals go? Would they head to the cabin where Hilde and Quatre would be unaware of the danger? Had Trowa been drawn out into the open to help?

I didn't mean for the groan to escape.

"You don't like wolves? They seem to like you," Ty chuckled darkly. "When the animals didn't go a-hunting toward the beach, as I had expected, I knew my information was… wrong."

He kept on talking but I stopped listening to him. So much of what he had to say was pure rubbish. Duo talked a lot, but he was interesting.

"-- However, there's a file on you here. Didn't you know?"

I shrugged. I no longer cared what he said. His words no longer held sway over my mind like they had. My gut twisted when he looked at me and I cringed at his touch, but I wasn't capitulating. I would not surrender my hope as long as I had Duo to live for.

"It said that you liked to come here to these caves to play. I wondered if you might have brought your friends along to play, too?"

I barely followed what he was saying. I did hear the sound of boots on rock and voices in the tunnel. I acknowledged him enough to distract him from turning to look. "Hn."

"Anyway, it brought you and me together for this lovely talk. Treize and his personal guards should be here directly, then your friends will be properly dealt with."

"He set armed guards on my friends?!" I started for the exit. "You are all insane!"

"Not at all." Keel charged on me with dangerous intent, ramming the gun barrel into the side of my head. I could feel the cold metal trigger by my ear. "I will kill those friends one by one with agonizing slowness, and you can watch. You will not upset the work so close to fruition."

"Leave them alone. This is between you and me."

"How valiant you are! Maybe I can save just one to use--"

"Stop!" I shouted. I didn't want to hear about what he would do to my "one." My eyes were locked on the tunnel opening, while very aware of where Ty was pointing his gun when he shoved it into my jaw.

"Forget about escaping. You will choose _one_."

I snapped. If my friends were listening then these could be my last words so I wanted to make them count. If they were thinking of foolishly attempting to save me, then I'd keep talking to give them time to formulate a plan of attack.

"Duo. I am in love with him. Are you satisfied? Does that make me weak? Well, you are wrong. He is wonderful for me. I would marry him if he would have me. Touch him and I will kill you, I swear it! Or any of them. They are loved. They have people who care about them. Have you forgotten what family Quatre Winner is a part of? You think his family won't raise hell if you harm the heir?"

"You take me too lightly. Accidents on this island explain away many deaths. Planes are notoriously uncertain."

"Ty Keel, you are not that infallible, or that good." Of course, insulting him and standing up to him only made him madder, but it felt good.

"Are you so in love that you will die for the man?"

"Yes. I have finally found something worth living for. I will not give up on him or my life. It's rather simple."

(o) Duo POV

The sunken cheeks, hard, sharp features, buff build of a deadly killer—all rolled into Ty Keel, assassin. At last, I saw the "ex" that had shaped Heero's psyche. I stayed hidden in the passageway with the others so I could hear everything. Heero loved me. He loved me enough to stand up to Ty Keel that way.

"I love you too," I whispered too quietly for anyone to hear and stepped forward.

Trowa's grip tightened on my arm, holding me in place. "Hold on, hold on...not yet. Give Heero a chance to get out of that hold."

Hearing the sound of a gun being cocked was all it took to push me to action. I jerked free, dashing toward the flickering lantern light. Trowa was on my heels, charging into the room, followed by a stampede of everyone else.

Heero smiled as he saw me with my stringy hair falling out of my braid and clothes caked with mud. He looked lovelier to me than any movie star or runway model.

"Stupid children," the assassin said with a barking laugh. He stepped backwards into the opening to the corridor leading to the labs, running his hand along the door jam, feeling for something.

Feeling for an alarm button!

I plastered on an impish grin and asked, "Is now a bad time?"

Keel's smile was half snarl. "Oh, no, you're right on time. Ready to join the greatest experiment of all time?"

I shook my head. "Hell, no! I want no part in your fountain of youth schemes. You won't get me."

Ty Keel moved his grip to Heero's throat and flipped his gun my way as a contingent of armed lackeys thundered out of the corridor and stormed into the crowded chamber. "Leave the boy with the ridiculous braid, and this one, but take the others."

Ty Keel may have been marginally sane prior to this moment, but not any longer. Maybe it was the pressure. He ordered his henchmen to attack us without reserve. The gun, once turned on Heero, now was aimed at me. Looks like he was making me part of his personal vendetta; he would take me out himself.

I was busy fighting off another man, blocking Hilde from an attack. I knew the danger I was in.

(o) Heero POV

I batted away an armed man. "Duo! Get down!"

In the space between blinks of an eye, the many minutiae of the possibilities crossed my mind: shout, run, duck-- Duo would be safe with Trowa and Quatre, Hilde would need Wufei– that decided it. In the next instant, my reflexes took over. I leaped in front of Duo, tripping him and knocking him to the floor as Keel fired.

I held Duo close and looked up to see Trowa tear a gun from the guard nearest him and slam it down, decking the man senseless with the butt end. He tossed the gun into the air, caught it one-handed, stepped to the side, aimed, and fired twice, taking out two more of the armed guards. Then, he slumped against the wall, looking pale and grimacing. His arm was tied to his chest. _So he'd been hurt already!_

The rifles Hilde and Quatre had brought were practically useless in such close quarters, and, apparently, they hadn't thought to grab any of Trowa's arsenal. Instead, I watched as Hilde covered Quatre and he recovered dropped weapons.

It was dark, which made it difficult to see. Quatre scuttled about close to the floor, avoiding detection. He was nearly stepped on by one of the henchmen as he retrieved what looked like a cattle prod-- something I didn't recognize but which was probably used for inmate control.

Hilde managed to shoot an enemy's foot and his knee with one of the recovered hand guns, sending the man hollering into the wall and saving Quatre.

"Over this way," Quatre called out and started pushing Trowa nearer to the exit passageway.

Wufei cold-cocked a guard in the jaw and took his automatic. He shot the semiautomatic out of the hand of an attacker just entering the chamber, fired off a few shots down the hall, and when he was satisfied that no more enemies were coming, he closed the door and turned his attention to the opponents inside.

Luckily for us, Keel's shot flew wide, missing both me and Duo, but one of his men lurched past him, intent on reaching us. I twisted to shield my lover with my own body as Ty fired a second shot.

"Ugh!" I gasped as pain exploded along my shoulder blade. Another bullet flew over Duo's head and into my chest. The last thing I saw as a guard kicked me to the side was another enemy heading for Duo, blade ready to stab my love through the heart.

(o) Trowa's POV

I couldn't see Wufei, but I could hear his shouted directions to Zechs. Zechs swept into my line of sight, aimed to kill, and blasted the guard to the floor, sending his knife clattering to the floor at my feet.

My ears were ringing from the reverberations of the shots fired in the stone-walled room and my vision narrowed, blackness creeping around the edges. My legs went rubbery. I thought I'd pass out. I shook Quatre's arm. "Help me get out, now!"

Quatre swung a cattle prod with all his strength, striking and disarming a man about to rush at them from the side, but he only managed to clip him on the free arm and didn't engage the shock control.

I kicked the attacker away, shouting again, "Move!"

But the wounded guard appeared once more, thrusting out with a long, curved bladed knife. Hilde screamed as it pierced her thigh. She wrapped both hands around the knife handle, which was embedded in her limb to the hilt, braced her feet, and yanked, wincing as the notched blade slid past muscle and scraped past bone.

Quatre nearly fainted. "Oh, God!"

I took a pistol from Quatre's weapon collection and, without bothering to aim, blasted a hole in the attacker's gut. Quatre watched wide-eyed, going into shock, I thought, then surprised me by shaking it off and jumping to support Hilde. "Lean on me!"

Wufei rushed to her side to thrust them out into the passage. My arm and entire side had gone numb and I knew I hadn't much fight left in me. I shuffled behind them when I noticed Duo diving for the floor.

"Zechs!" I shouted to the closest man. "Get Duo!"

"No, no..." Duo cried out. "What stupid, brave thing you did. Don't you dare die on me!"

Then I saw Heero and shiny blood on the stone floor. I gripped Quatre in order to stand upright and watch.

Heero's eyes were closed. I couldn't make out if he was breathing or not in the dim light, surrounded by chaos. Duo spotted the dull shine glinting off the discarded knife. He claimed the knife and with one last look at the spreading blood, I could hear him yell, "For this, he dies."

Duo sprang to his feet, blind to his own dangerous situation. He located Keel, who was still holding his gun, barking orders at his few remaining minions. Duo, impulsive as his actions were, was exacting in his delivery.

I could see Zechs watching as Keel jerked his head in Duo's direction. If Zechs waited any longer, the assassin would get another shot off. He wasn't liable to miss a second time!

"Shoot Keel!" I screamed.

The assassin pivoted and raised his gun to shoulder height. Zechs attempted to fire at him with his own weapon, but I heard it jam on the first try.

Duo gauged the distance and the angle before swiftly flinging the blade, sending it arrow-straight directly at Ty Keel.

Without skipping a beat, Zechs fired again, this time hitting the man's hand. The weapon flew out of Keel's hand and spattered blood on the wood pillar behind him. Keel screamed as he fired again, missing widely, chiseling out chunks of rock and dust with a spray of bullets. Zechs was about to fire again when he realized Keel was no longer moving.

Duo had directed all his anger, all his grief, and all his hatred into his throw. The knife blade hit its target, passing through flesh and pinning Keel's neck to the rough-hewn timber pillar as rock debris rained down.

Wufei stepped back into my view, his gun leveled at the remaining two guards, expecting them to drop their weapons upon seeing their boss was dead. Instead, they launched themselves in separate directions, falling to the ground under a volley of shots as Wufei and Zechs finished off their rounds of ammunition.

"That's all of them," Wufei pronounced.

"God, no! 'Ro!" Duo cried out, grief-stricken. Heero was draped over a heap of enemy bodies.

Hilde sank to her knees and crawled to Heero. "Oh, no," she said, pulling up alongside Duo. Her professionalism took over immediately. Hilde thrust her fist into her bag and dug furiously for material to staunch the flow of blood. "Come on... Got it!" She began pulling out wads of gauze and ripping at Heero's coveralls. "Hurry! Hold it for me to stop the bleeding." She plastered tape over the mass to hold it in place. "Help me turn him."

"It went all the way through," Duo gasped, face anguished.

"No, this is another entry wound over his h-heart," she said, choking up as she pressed another wad to the wound and secured it with safety pins.

Duo wasn't given more time to worry. Zechs pulled Duo the rest of his way to his feet, and gave him a shove to the exit. "Go!"

"Not without Heero!"

Hilde remained crouched over Heero. Duo stumbled over bodies on his way to his side. "Is he breathing?"

"Barely. He needs a real doctor fast!"

"That's it then." Zechs nodded to the door. "There's the penitentiary hospital at the end of that tunnel from the maps I studied. If there's any hope it's that way."

"I'll run ahead and secure the way," Wufei said. "And call for backup as soon as I get cell phone coverage. Hilde—"

"I've got her. Don't worry. Do your job," Duo said.

Zechs lifted Heero in his arms. "Someone get that door for me."

Wufei was already a step or two ahead of him. He'd pressed the button operating the sliding door, picked up Hilde's bag, and squeezed her hand. "Duo will carry you. Don't fight him."

"Hold on to my neck," Duo said to her.

I knew then that she must have been in a bad way, since she didn't argue with either one of them. Duo carried her past me and into the passage behind Zechs with Heero and Wufei with firearms in both hands.

Quatre and I limped behind. Quatre did his best to support my weight. We were chilled to the bone as the sweat evaporated off our skin, thoroughly dirty, stinging with small cuts, and aching from bruises. The shock of what we had just gone through hadn't even settled in yet. There wasn't time—after all, it wasn't over yet.

* * *

End Chapter 36

TBC in Chapter37 -- April Showers, Part 6


	38. April Showers, Part 6 of 6

**Greeting Cards**

This is an on-going story arc, based on Heero's greeting cards, and updated monthly, at least.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

A/N: Thanks go to WaterLily and Snowdragon for editing the chapter and encouraging me.

**Warnings:** AU, male/male pairings, language, some embalming and autopsies topics covered.

**Chapter 38 --**

**April Showers, Part 6 of 6  
**

**

* * *

(o) Duo POV**

"I'm no doctor," Hilde said to me for the second time as Zechs placed Heero face up on an examination table. "I'll do my best to stabilize him."

"I know. I know!" I was starting to sound shrill, but I was afraid. "What's he need, blood?" I opened cupboards as if I might find the answers inside.

"There must be a doctor in this place that doesn't want us all dead," Wufei said gruffly. "Ah, cell phone connection, at last!"

"I found an orderly to help us," Quatre said. I don't know where or even when he located the man, but there was the little blond, shoving a terrified man into the room. "You do what that lady tells you to do or I'll introduce you to some wolves I ran into."

Of course, it wasn't really true, Quat would never do that, but the orderly didn't know his _gentle_ heart, then again maybe he did. Trowa told me his sweet-faced lover blew a hole through the wolf that had attacked him, showing his tough (Trowa called it resilient and I called it brutal) side.

"Y-yes, sir!" He had nowhere to run with Zechs towering over him on one side and Wufei and Quatre positioned on the other.

"Look him up," Zechs ordered. He stabbed at the computer terminal. "We know all about the files you people kept on him. You can get his blood type: Heero Yuy."

I petted my lover's dark hair, but he didn't move. He looked too pale and still. "He's breathing; I can tell that much," I said in a shaky voice.

"I'll bring up his last physical." The man activated the computer-records scan, located 'Ro's files, and found the required information. Within a minute, he had the IV setup and dripping fluids into 'Ro's arm.

"We need to keep him warm," Hilde said. "Where are some blankets?"

"This way," the orderly said, leading Quatre and me to a storage locker with built-in warming trays. "Take as many as you want. More will automatically fill in. It's a continuous heating system."

"Yeah, you must need that with reviving clones," I growled.

As my patience ran thin, my sarcasm thickened. Heero should be in a hospital getting the best care-- Trowa and Hilde, too. We couldn't walk off the island. We had to call for help and wait. Waiting was hard.

Quatre was fluttering over Trowa, and, I had to say, my business partner looked worse than before. He'd nearly fallen asleep in an uncomfortable looking chair missing most of its back rest.

"Would you check his temperature and get him some water, please?" Quatre asked the orderly. "And check his wounds."

Trowa's head snapped up. "I'm fine."

I wrapped Heero in the warm blankets, listening to the orderly as he did cursory examinations of Trowa's wounds.

"You need another round of antibiotics," Hilde said. "Those claws were just full of terrible bacteria."

Trowa didn't argue that. The painkillers must have been wearing off. I know my adrenalin rush had faded, so his shoulder had to have been killing him. He didn't reject Quatre as he draped him in a warm blanket and moved his boyfriend to a softer looking chair.

To my surprise, Quatre had his hands on me. He led me to the chair beside Trowa.

"You sit in line here so someone can take care of you. That's why we're here. Wufei and Zechs can do guard duty." He flashed me a modest smile, showing an edge of tooth then turned on his next victim. "You, too, Hilde. I saw that dagger go in your leg."

For a moment there I thought he might lap at the wound. I shook my groggy head. _Oh, 'Ro, how did you implant your fantasy world in my head?_

Wufei perked up at the word "dagger," scowling our way while remaining in his phone conversation. I overheard a few commands, vague directions, and what sounded like a brief report to his boss, all the while moving closer to Hilde's chair.

"That knife wound is deep but clean," the orderly told Hilde while tending to her stab wound. "The bleeding has been minimal, which is good. One inch more and it would have hit an artery. I've got pain killers, tetanus, and antibiotics– all in shot form. After the injections, I suggest you close our eyes and try to sleep, okay?"

Hilde nodded, tearing up a little. "You've been kind. Thanks."

"You're welcome." He smiled and patted her hand, then moved to 'Ro, giving his IV one last check, and then he looked me over. "Let me treat all your scratches and scrapes. Who knows what you've gotten into."

Who indeed? Mostly, we all needed to scrub our hands and arms. Zechs switched places with Wufei for his examination. Poor 'Fei hadn't even noticed the gash on one hand and a few deep cuts requiring stitches on his back.

"There's nothing that can be done about the air we were breathing, but since that Keel man wasn't wearing a mask so we can hope the air was safe for us to breathe, too," 'Fei said, exhaustion dragging his eyes closed.

I returned to Heero's side. He breathed. I watched his chest rise and fall, sometimes listening to the hubbub around me. I cradled his head in my hands, feeling entirely and completely miserable.

_What did it matter that I'd found what we had come for? Nothing was worth this. What made him, any of us, value our lives so little?_

If asked, I'd never trade Heero's life for something _so_ stupid,_ so completely _unimportant as recovering bones of a long dead woman._ So what?_

Heero was lying there nearly dead for nothing. _So, we stopped Treize, or did we?_

_Maybe we just killed his clone and he was still out there?_ _So, he wasn't going to continue some grisly experiment. Great. _

I would have traded it all to go back in time and do anything else that weekend. And Heero would not have been hurt or Trowa or anyone.

Quatre shivered and after gazing longingly at Trowa's blanket, hopped up, exclaiming as he did, "I'm bringing us all blankets!"

"That's a lovely idea," Hilde said.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid risks…_ My vision faded. I had to sit again. My ass hit the seat just as a shout shook me.

"Come look what I found!" the orderly's eyes shone brightly with excitement.

I was reluctant to move, at first, but when I noticed Hilde standing there with a smile I flew out of my chair and over to 'Ro's side. "What?"

"Look at this." He held up a bent, palm-sized, slim, metal-clad book.

"I didn't notice it before in the dark," Hilde said in a tight voice.

The book of love sonnets I'd bought for Heero. "What about it?" I asked.

"The blood on his chest, what we thought was a bullet entry wound, was from the sharp edge cutting into him here. See, here?"

"Lemme see that." I whisked the book out of the man's hands. "You're right. You can see where the bullet hit and bounced off."

"That book deflected a bullet?" Wufei said with obvious disbelief in his voice.

Quatre rushed back into the room, laden with warm blankets. "What's wrong?" he asked as he distributed the welcome heat.

"Heero didn't take a bullet to the heart like we thought," Trowa started to explain.

Hilde pressed a stethoscope to 'Ro's chest and listened. "His lungs are clear, which means the other bullet didn't hit one or any other major organ. It's all good."

"So he's gonna be okay, right? Right?!" I insisted someone tell me Heero was going to be fine.

"Yes, he should be. Shock, lack of food…" the orderly looked us all over. "You all are probably dehydrated and in need of nourishment, too."

Wufei snatched the book out of my hands, examining it while Zechs looked over his shoulder. "It's a book of poetry."

"That's not just any book," I told him, "I gave it to Heero last month."

A folded rectangle of blue cardstock fluttered out of the pages. Zechs saved it, turning it over in his hands.

Wufei passed the odd book to me. "A real lifesaver. You ought to keep it for him, then."

"Thanks."

"This is for you," Zechs said, offering me the paper.

A pen and ink sketch, obviously Heero's, suggested a grassy knoll in the rain. His careful script with beautiful lettering read, "April Showers." I flipped it open.

"_**I strive to live up to your opinion of me.**_

_**You're my confidante and rock; you're my lover and my friend."**_

There were ink smudges, shaky lines. He must have done this on the plane ride over. My card. _God, thank you_, I prayed. It wouldn't be my last card, but how close had I come to losing the best thing I'd ever had in my life? I didn't care who noticed my eyes well up.

Zechs wandered over. "Agents landed at several points on the island and have secured the penitentiary. Commander Une knows our location and is sending Agent Shari with an ambulance. We are instructed to wait here."

"Quitratue. We promised to go to Quitratue together. That's in Chile. It's remote, on the side of the western coastal mountains," I told Trowa. I don't know why, but it seemed important that I tell him.

"Sounds interesting, but I think we're going to Quatre-land," he muttered. "Or Zechs-land. Hey, Quat? Bring Duo another blanket."

"No! No, I'm fine."

"It's 55 degrees in here," Quatre chastised me gently. "The blanket will help."

It did feel good. I don't know why I fought against accepting the comfort. I dragged my chair over to where Heero was sleeping and leaned my head back. My eyes closed automatically. I heard the voices of Wufei and Zechs as they came and went.

"Preventers boats landed on the other side of the island-- and have secured the Asylum— lab secured--- medics on the way--"

An hour before dawn, Shari arrived, leading a crew of agents, two with folding gurneys. Hilde and Trowa complained, both wanting to walk out on their own two feet, but that was not going to happen.

Wufei had a stern talk with his beloved about "helping him subdue Trowa," which seemed to shut her up. They both ended up strapped to gurneys like Heero and rolled out.

Trowa kept saying he was alive and well, and shouted, "Not autopsy!"

Not that I'm a grammar freak, but that was a very un-'Tro like thing for him to say—he loved autopsies; although, maybe not one on _himself_. I think he'd over-medicated himself a little.

Quatre chipped away at his fears with earnest assurances that "You're alive, Trowa. No, the crematorium is not in that direction!"

"Careful with him!" I shouted. No one was touching 'Ro without going through me, which meant I was getting in the way of progress. "What are you doing to him?"

The Preventers paramedics probably were experts. They treated me pretty good, too, talking to me calmly and professionally.

"We'll get him into x-ray for possible bone damage where he's swelling. He'll be prepped for surgery. It looks like the bullets avoided vital organs, but he's continuing to bleed internally. You did fine work here," the lead medic told Hilde. "If you are ever interested in Preventers, you might consider joining the medical group." The man handed her a card, which she pocketed with a polite "thank you."

I could tell Wufei overheard that and wanted more than anything to shred that card. He didn't seem the sort to want his "woman" in a dangerous position ever again. I just bet he was battering himself over the brain-lapse he'd had letting her come in the first place. Just wait until he found out she was pregnant! Whoa, doggies! Fireworks time again!

I laughed and laughed. I must have been pretty punchy on painkillers, too.

"You're taking him to a hospital?" I pushed in between a medic and Zechs. "Not without me, too. We got bags with overnight stuff and clothes changes out in some cabin."

"Just get them all transferred to the plane—" Zechs was telling one of the Preventers before turning on me. "Duo, everything has been packed. It's all taken care of. The Island is secured."

"Oh, well, that's okay then. So, where are we going?"

"Atlas City General and after that, I'd be happy to have you as my guest at my mountain villa while Heero convalesces.

"Ah, thanks..."

"Trowa and Quatre have agreed and Wufei and Hilde will visit for at least a day to relax and get cleaned up. This has been a traumatic event for all of us and we need to talk and decompress."

"Well, a day of vacation would be nice," I said, then asked, "You have a pool at this villa?"

"Yes."

"Sold," I said just as we stepped out of doors. I hadn't even noticed the trip through the asylum hospital. It wouldn't have been familiar since my last time there Heero and I had taken the sewer ride out. The light of day, filtered by the clouds was the biggest surprise. "No wonder I'm dead! We were up all night."

The agents shielded the three on gurneys from the rain and dashed to the awaiting medical vans. Once Heero was lifted inside, I hopped behind him. Hilde was tucked in next to the my sleeping boyfriend, and when Wufei was satisfied with the loading of the other van, he jumped in the back, closed the door and we rolled on.

Although leaving sounded good to most of us, the shock of so much violence was setting in. We did need to talk about what had happened and they all wanted to be near when Heero awakened. Being as Zechs' Atlas City property would be the break we all needed.

"Commander Une and agent Shari will remain on at the island," Wufei told us. "They'll be overseeing the property while the Preventers' deal with government agencies to assume control of the asylum and penitentiary. It could be a while before it is known what will be done with the laboratory and assets."

I wondered what I should do with the bag of bones in my pocket, only to find it was gone. Wufei owned up to taking the important evidence when I'd been sleeping. I would have put up a fight, but the plane seat was so comfortable. It felt good to relinquish control at last and so I simply gave in and slept.

(o) Heero POV

_Tired._

_Eyelids so heavy they must be weighted with sand. _

_Damn that sandman anyway. _

_No hands. _

_I have no arms. _

_Definitely no hands. _

I looked around and couldn't find my arms. My hands were gone! I screamed. I know I screamed but I couldn't hear it. That's all I recall of my first awakening, thankfully.

The next time I woke up went far better.

_Cold shoulders. _

_Quiet. _

_Car far away__,__ buzzing on the road. _

_Head so thick it must be filled with sludge._

"I'd do anything, _anything_, to help." It was Duo's voice. Alive, he was alive.

"The doctors all say he'll wake up when he's sufficiently healed." That was Quatre, I determined.

"What if—"

"Duo, don't do anything stupid." Hn. Trowa's voice this time.

"I'll tell him—okay, I'll marry him if he opens his eyes right now."

"What did I say about stupid?" Trowa asked. "He doesn't want that."

_Yes, I do!_

"Trowa's right. Heero wouldn't want a promise drawn from desperation."

_Shut up, Winner! Who's to say I wouldn't? _

I know time must have passed, so I probably had drifted off to sleep again, but not for long.

"I want you back!" Duo's voice cracked moist like spring ice. "'Ro, listen, I can commit. I'm all yours you know that. You gotta knoooow how I need you now."

Duo needed me. He had wanted me, but never said he needed me. Nice. I felt a warm hand wrapped around mine, which meant I had a hand after all. He squeezed and I mentally returned the pressure. I tried.

"You're waking up!" a voice shouted excitedly, Duo's. "'Ro, can you hear me?"

_Yes._ I could hear rustling fabric. I willed my eyelids to budge.

"I promise you… whatever you want, just open your eyes."

I opened my eyes a splinter's width. All I saw was Duo's smiling face, skin clean and smelling of antiseptic soap, or I was. Duo was talking in a very animated way, and I tried to concentrate on hearing, but caught only snippets of what he was telling me.

"-- Atlas City… hospital... Zechs' place-- What's that?"

I moved my lips, but no sound issued. Duo could read my lips through the oxygen mask, past the IV hoses. He could read "I love you" through anything, and I knew it because he smiled.

"Yeah, me too. I mean, I love you too, so you better not pull a stupid stunt like that jumping in front of flying bullets again."

I could read his heart and that meant more than any words he said. He was safe, he was mine, and knowing that I slept again.

(o)

When I woke up the next time I found Duo's braid wrapped around my wrist and the tip pinched in my fingers like a paintbrush. I wondered if I had arranged his hair that way or if he had, but the thought passed with the realization that where Duo's braid rested, so lay his head. And there it was nestled on his arms which were crossed on the hospital bed.

_So close! I was safe and loved. _

The wonder of it all took my breath away.

I could not see more, but I supposed he was on a chair pushed up close.

_He stayed with me__._

My chest swelled and I could hardly breathe I felt so happy that he would show his love for me that way.

I could see hair shining clean, meaning he had had a shower, making me too aware of itches I couldn't scratch. I was bandaged near my neck, over my upper chest and under my right arm. I felt bandages on my back and left shoulder.

_Had I been hit there?_

I remembered bullets whizzing by. In spite of all that, I felt all right.

_Oh, Duo, my love…_

He promised to marry me. I heard him declare that aloud. It had not been a dream. I woke up for him; at least, in _a way_ I did.

_Now, everything would be wonderful, right? _

_No. _Even I could see a problem with that line of wishful thinking.

Trowa had warned me not to compel Duo into making the choices I wanted. He had to decide for himself.

_But he made that decision on his own, right?_

_No._ He said what he did-- for me. He must have been very scared.

_Aw, rats. _I smiled, thinking Duo would have said that.

I knew I could not hold him to that impulsive commitment. He wanted me and needed me, but I still had to prove that I was not a mental case needing Duo as a crutch.

"Mr. Yuy? Hi, I'm nurse May and I'm here to check the bandage on your back."

"What happened to it?"

"A bullet grazed your shoulder blade and chipped the bone. That was repaired and the skin mended with endo-synthe."

"Then why are you looking at it?"

"To be amazed by your quick healing," she said, chuckling to let me know she was joking. "Instructions are to check for infection because you were injured in a contaminated place. That's why you required an oxygen tent when you were first admitted."

"I…did?"

"For a day. You had an allergic reaction to some material in the air. There. You are healing magnificently. I'm going to examine your chest wound now."

"I was shot."

"Yes, but something protected your heart from injury. The impact broke your clavicle and you sustained deep bruising and lacerations. The bone was mended. You'll be sore for some time from the bruising and the rest is… let's see… clean and healing very well. Most importantly, your hands weren't hurt."

She left me wondering why she said that only a second.

"So you can go on painting? You are that Heero Yuy, the famous artist?"

"Famous? Not really. I only had the one show. I make greeting cards."

"Well, if I recognize your name here in Atlas City, you must be famous. The paper had a huge spread covering your gallery opening, but then the gay community is very big up here."

_Ah… No secrets any more._

"So, I can get up?"

"Yes, but ask for assistance to the bathroom. You wouldn't want to fall on legs that haven't been used in a few days. And no showers until the bandages come off."

"Can I have a friend help me, ah, get clean?"

"Would you prefer that? I'll let the orderly know and he can bring in the supplies."

"Yes."

She knew. I could tell. She knew Duo had been here and was the "friend" I had in mind. She knew, and why blood felt the need to flood my face, causing me to blush furiously, I had no idea.

"The one with the long braid, right? He's pacing outside the room," nurse May told me with a "knowing" smile. "I'll send him in when I'm done."

"Thank you."

"So, what's your friend's name so I don't have to call him 'Hey, you'?"

"Duo."

"That's an unusual name. He's cute."

_He's mine!_

I was certain I kept that in my head, but she smiled as if it slipped out.

"I'm a professional," she assured me, "and happily married." Then she laughed as she completed her examination.

She buzzed the orderly from the monitor in the room, put in her bath order, gave me a perky wave "bye", and left.

Duo appeared in the next instant, grinning. "So, I get to give you a bath, eh?"

(o)

'Ro looked so much better after his hour in regen; he, in fact, looked damned delicious in that skimpy little hospital gown. I kissed his cheek, since he turned his face away.

"I need to brush my teeth," he explained, "To start."

I found a way to wind our arms around each other to give him support and at the same time not aggravate his injuries. "Ready to try walking?" I asked.

"Hn."

He stood a few seconds, testing, I guessed then we shuffled without incident to the bathroom, where I had stowed a few practical hygiene products I'd absconded with from the Peacecraft mountain villa.

"Missed this," I said.

He rolled his eyes, mute with his mouth filled to capacity with brush and paste foam.

"I mean, being with you and doing the ordinary things we do."

He rinsed his mouth. "I am glad you are all right."

"Yeah, everyone got a little banged up there at the end, but you got it the worst. Trowa's been up and about after some shoulder work and a steady diet of antibiotics. He won't be rolling around bodies at work for a few days, something he seems to be able to deal with."

"He's not here?"

"Just you an' me, babe. The rest are at the villa, poolside, or in Trowa's case lounging in a mineral bath."

"Sounds…nice." That little hesitation while he searched for a polite word meant my love was envious. _Aw, he looked a little hurt. Time to show the love. _

"And you'll be outta here tomorrow, tops, is my bet, then you an' me will have some down time together and enjoy the place. It's like a resort. Food's great. No matter what name the guy goes by, where he lives, or what he does, he's got class."

"He has old money and family lines that go back to the earliest recorded history of Sanc."

His expression changed. He looked resolute as he asked, "Keel, he tried to kill you. What happened to him?"

"Zechs tried to blow him away and clipped his hand," I told him. I grinned darkly. "I threw a knife and got him here," I stabbed a finger at my throat at the side. "Cut the carotid and pinned to him to a beam."

"He is dead then." Heero let out the breath he'd been holding. "Thanks."

Our eyes met. I studied his and he looked okay. He'd _be_ okay. "You're welcome, babe."

"So… I'm, ah, going to use the, ah… alone. I can do this without falling. I'm feeling fine."

I knew enough to know when a guy needed his privacy. When I went out into the hospital room, there stood the woman I knew from the Sanc General hospital, the Zodiac Island resort, and a commander in the Preventers organization, Lady Une. I waited, listening as she finished her conversation with the nurse and hearing nothing about Heero's improving health than I already knew. She thanked the nurse and closed the door behind her.

"Duo Maxwell."

"In the flesh, Lady Une, er, commander."

"Une is fine," she told me. "Where's Heero Yuy?"

I did a little incline of my head toward the other door. "I was about to help him take a bath." I could hear Heero coming out of the bathroom behind me.

"Ah, very good," she said. "I just wanted to check on your health, Heero. I wanted to see that you were getting proper treatment and bring you up to date on a few events. Oh course, I'd like to begin by thanking you personally for all your help."

Heero nodded mutely.

"I can answer any questions you might have," she said.

"What happened to Treize?" he asked.

"Wufei brained him with a skull," I said. "We thought it was a cloned version of Treize at the time, 'cause he was a bit loony, but he turned out to be the real thing."

"He is dead?" Heero asked, looking for confirmation from Commander Une. I wasn't insulted.

"He's dead, yes. The Khushrenada in the tombs wasn't the man he'd been, which is why he was so easily defeated."

"Oh, 'Fei wouldn't like the sound of that," I said.

She smiled. "He discovered too late that the drug, when given to normal human beings over an extended period of time, damages the brain permanently. Agent Chang did kill the real Treize, but his mental state had degenerated terribly."

"Why were we part of the program as children?" Heero asked.

"They collected one sample from each part of the kingdom. Some of you had already been there for other reasons, like Quatre, Trowa, and you. Wufei had been the head of his clan so tests were conducted on him in secret and sent on. I don't know why they chose Duo specifically, but all of you had key characteristics they were hunting for. Your immune systems were enhanced, your health in general was improved, and then your DNA was collected and used for creating the clones."

"The clones… they were to become the perfect soldiers?"

"That was the scheme. All their reasoning and information will be in a report."

"I'd like to see that."

"I don't see why a copy of the relevant data can't make its way to you. For your information, all the clones have been processed and destroyed. The damage has been rectified. The asylum and penitentiary hospital and labs re-staffed. The Sanc hospital connections are continuing to be reviewed—"

"--Which was partly why you, Hilde, and Trowa were brought here to Atlas City PeaceHealth," I filled in.

"Hilde? You said nothing to me about her getting hurt, Duo."

"She got stabbed in the leg, but she's all fixed up fine now. Walking and talking like new."

Heero frowned at me. "That was flippant."

"Hey!" I was a jokey kind of guy at times. _Bad timing?_ Guess I needed to defend myself. "I flitted from room to room when Trowa and Hilde and you first arrived for treatment so I really had been concerned for my friends. So, Trowa is doing fine. He and I have been in contact with Howard and the business is fine. Who else? Oh, yeah, Wufei and Zechs have been going back and forth finalizing reports. See? I'm on top of them all."

When Heero eyes widened and glittered with interest, I rewound what I'd last said, "… on top… oh." I couldn't help but grin. "You're just special."

"How special is that?" he asked pulling me closer with those deadly blue eyes darkening and a kiss forming in the air we shared.

Une shuffled her feet noisily to break up our sap-fest. "I have just a few more minutes before I must leave."

Before Heero told her to "just leave then," I remembered what I wanted her to tell him. "What about the Leia remains I found? Have they been taken care of?"

"Yes. Leia Barton's remains have been moved." She looked at me with what I'd call a bit of wonder in her eyes. "That was…quite a tight spot you found her in, Maxwell."

"It was crazy," I agreed. I liked the way Heero squeezed my hand at that moment.

"Zechs Merquise requested that she be put to rest on his property with Mariemaia and Dekim Barton," Une said. "There will be a formal observance and ceremony next week at the Sanc palace."

"Ty told me…" 'Ro's voice cracked, "… he _confessed_," Heero spit out the last word reveling a bit of the hatred he must have felt, "that when Treize Khushrenada discovered Leia transferring evidence to her father and White Fang, he sent Odin Lowe to kill her."

"But not before she managed to get a letter to Zechs," Une commented. "An important one." Her eyes focused into the distance in a way I figured meant she was piecing together parts of a puzzle. "I believe we have the entire story now. How sad."

"Sad for lots of folks," I reminded her.

"Yes." The commander's eyes turned back to us and searched Heero's face a moment. "I'm glad you are on the mend. And Ty Keel-- I'm sorry he got away from us. Agents Noin and Shari thought they had him on another part of the island."

"There are secret tunnels all over," Heero said.

"I wanted to apologize for leaving you in that kind of danger and let you know all your medical expenses are being taken care of by Preventers."

Heero nodded slowly. "Thank you."

She shook his free hand. "Thank you, Mr. Yuy. Agents Chang and Merquise can answer all your other questions, but you can contact me at any time, if they can't."

"Just one thing," Heero said, surprising us both.

"Yes?"

"Where's Wing, my, ah, Datatron?"

(o)

Later on, they let Heero go, he was doing so well. Also, we weren't going far. Zechs villa was only a mile or so away where Heero could rest more comfortably; at least, he'd be more comfortable. I wasn't so sure about the resting part, heh, heh.

He did get back his beloved "Wing." We all got our stuff back, but only 'Ro seemed to have spawned a new appendage from his hand. I would have held it otherwise as we all made our way to the dining hall.

"Big place," Wufei commented, a smile growing. "Plenty room to swing a sword."

"Damn! I knew there was something this hallway was good for. Sword fighting!" Zechs laughed and stabbed at a gloomy landscape painting with a pretend blade.

I could imagine Heero fencing with Zechs and how sexy that would look. "You ever learn fencing, 'Ro?"

"No," Heero said and shook his head, never once lifting his eyes from the glowing screen of Wing.

_Shucks._

"He can walk, talk, and…" Quatre paused, grinning, "and _type_ at the same time." Quatre laughed.

"He's a fucking genius," Trowa commented, "if you call single word responses talking."

"I do when it's _you_."

Touché Quat!

Hilde joined in. "Wufei coached his own fencing team in high school, I mean there was a teacher there, but Wufei knew everything."

Wufei beamed a smiled her way. Nothing could wipe the smile off his face now that he knew he would be "satisfying his familial duty by contributing an heir to the clan," I think was how he put it. "I thought at the time that as a whole we were a very good team." Wufei said.

I wasn't the only one getting hot over their boyfriend.

She cozied up to him, purring, "Oh, you were, with you their master swordsman. And you still are. _Different s_word." She grinned, illustrating that the "smut" gene does not ride exclusively on the Y chromosome.

"Chang," Heero said, looking perturbed. He halted, blocking the hallway. "I can't eliminate at least ten superfluous processes."

"Then they are not superfluous." Wufei's face took on one of the most arrogant, superior expressions of all time. Oh, here it came. Something he'd been dying to say, I just knew it. "I already explained that. YOU weren't listening. None of you listened when I was instructing you on the use and care of your datatrons. Now, you'll just have to suffer poor performance."

To deflect the dark-weather front building between the two guys, I knew I'd have to blow a lot of hot air and fast. I clapped a hand over my lover's shoulder, telling him, "Here, Heero, I'd like to return your lucky steel-coated book of poetry."

I handed over the small, but heavy, metal-clad book, and Heero snapped shut Wings' cover and took the book. He opened it and flipped through the pages.

"Did you find your card?" he asked me.

"Yeah," I said. "It was really nice, but as nice it was, I'm glad they weren't your last words to me."

Trowa added, "Yuy, you were real lucky you had that in your shirt pocket under your coveralls. The 22 ammunition couldn't penetrate it, or you wouldn't be here today."

"Indeed. You are very fortunate that bullet wasn't from a 44 magnum," Wufei said, "because one of those could have pierced just about anything."

Heero layered the book on top of the datatron and lowered them to his side. He kept his eyes glued to mine, that penetrating stare etching his image onto my retina-- permanently. "_Famous _last words."

Zechs folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. "Dinner waiting for us just fifteen more feet down the hall."

"Yeah, famous last words, like 'I can do _that_ with my eyes closed,'" I said, smiling.

Trowa caught on real fast. "How, 'bout, 'Are you _sure_ the power's off?'" he said.

"Correct, and 'Rat poison _only_ kills rats,'" Heero added.

Quatre laughed, "Oh, I get it! Like…ah… 'Pull the pin and count to… _what_?'"

"Or," Hilde giggled, "It's probably _just_ water retention!" She leaned into her soon-to-be husband, bumping him and making him laugh along with her joke.

Heero leaned close and whispered so only I could hear him. "Love you."

I smiled and blushed. I felt light-headed and happy. I couldn't believe how fast my life had changed. One minute I thought it was over, my friends and lover dying for nothing. Then, miraculously, Heero's wounds turned out not to be as serious as first thought. Trowa and Hilde were going to be completely fine in no time. Hilde kept her promise to me and told Wufei that she was going to have his baby. He very nearly, well, he did faint, but he claimed he didn't—not really. None of us spoke of that again, heh, heh… sure. What was important was that everyone came through. All my friends were saved and here we were recuperating in the lap of luxury at one of Zechs' villas.

"Hey, 'Fei! If I told you I was going to have a baby would you faint?"

"Only if you said it was mine," came his riposte.

"Oooh, point for 'Fei!"

* * *

End Chapter 38

TBC in Chapter39 -- May Is For Mother


	39. May Is For Mother

**Greeting Cards**

This is the end of this on-going story arc, based on Heero's greeting cards.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

**Warnings:** AU, male/male pairings, language

**Chapter 39--**

**May Is For Mother **

* * *

The sun shone brightly from behind passing clouds as a breeze cut across the hilltop cemetery , where many of Sanc's notables, and all of the Peacecrafts', had been interred. Attending a funeral service and not being the one in charge felt strange. Flowers ruffled and I shivered.

"Do you want to go back to the car?" Heero asked me.

With Leia Barton properly buried beside her father and daughter, I was ready to go do something. I wasn't sure what. I certainly didn't want to attend the public memorial service Zechs had arranged for the evening.

"Are you up for a walk?" I asked him. "If I move I'll warm up."

I figured he'd like that. He liked walks and Heero's injuries had healed just fine, plus I knew he missed going to the gym to work out, although the villa had provided everything I could think he could have wanted.

"Yes."

See? I was right.

Swathes of daisies whitewashed the luxuriantly growing grass, cut by sweeps of golden buttercups and dots of pink clover. Heero was pointing all this out, including the taller ribbon of blue camas in the background. He knew the flower names and stories about them and described them with words like "sweeps" and "ribbons" because he had a poet's soul. All I knew was that the wildflowers were pretty.

The ground was still too damp to sit on, so we found a rock on the sheltered side of the hill, and I sat while he picked flowers to press in his notebook and draw, I guess, later.

What was I to do? I loved this man. I couldn't see myself settling down with anyone else. I was spoiled and no longer wanted to live the life of a bachelor in substandard housing. I wanted someone to care for me and—

And. Did I want to take care of Heero? Be his support when he needed solid footing? Was I solid footing? What if I failed him? What if I waited so long he gave up and I lost all chance at achieving happiness?

He was giving me time. He hadn't pressed me to repeat my promise. He hadn't held me to it at all. It was up to me, but was I up to it? The big IT. Vows of constancy and duty and foreverness.

Well, I knew we could begin with sharing a house and go from there.

He stepped into my field of view. "For you." He presented me with a small bouquet.

"Ah, thanks." He had tied a stem around the other stems to hold them together. I didn't know what to do with it, so I set it down. "I brought a paper along." I showed him the "For Rent or Lease" pages.

"You want to look at houses to rent?" he asked, clarifying for me. "All right. I found a couple possibilities on the internet we can look at as well."

What was that in his hand? Oh, my. "Tell me you're _not_ making a daisy chain?" It looked like it to me. Ten little daisies in a row, and the next poised in his hand.

"Would you like to learn how?" he asked.

"'Ro… that's a girl-thing. No, I don't."

"It is not exclusively a girl-thing."

Yes, it was, to my mind, but there was my boyfriend linking tiny flowers together. I picked a buttercup and stared at it.

"Smell it," he suggested, so I did.

"It doesn't smell like anything," I said.

"Get it closer."

I nearly pushed it up my nose. "Nothing."

He was smiling. And he called me the idiot!

"Shall we go?" I asked.

"Just a second." He was messing with the end of my braid, but he often played with it, like a cat, I swear. I felt a double-tug then he said, "Ready."

"You have your flowers?" I had my bouquet stuffed in a pocket where no one would notice it. I may have been gay, but I wasn't _that_ gay.

"Yes." He wiggled his notebook at me then slipped it into his jacket pocket (See? He hid his flowers, too.) He was wearing the same brown corduroy jacket he'd worn when I first met him.

So we drove and parked and climbed stairs and knocked on doors and drove on and parked and looked at five places.

One of them still had the crime scene yellow caution tape trapped in the shrubbery. "It would be nicer if it had not been a meth lab," he said after a thirty second tour.

"Yep." The only thing better would have been if it had been burned to the ground first.

"Discouraging."

"Yeah, but we only just got started. It took me weeks to find my choice accommodations."

Heero's expression darkened, his eyes deep blue pools partially hidden behind reeds of abused hair. "Tell me that was an exaggeration."

"No. I mean, it takes a lot of looking, that's all. How long did it take for you to find—oh, yeah, you saved the girl and got the room. Well, it takes the rest of us longer. Call it sweat-equity."

"I call it a day."

"Ah, babe, don't be blue, just your eyes." That got me a flash of angry blue. "That's just the listings today. Tomorrow or the next may bring us a better set to look at."

"Tomorrow is Mother's Day."

He knew all the holiday's, making cards for them all. This one escaped my notice, for obvious reasons. "I musta had one."

"I never knew mine either." His eyes became soft blue with sparkles.

I walked him back to the car. "Speaking of mothers," I said, "You know Quat found out his mother died giving birth to him."

"I thought he came from a test tube on Zodiac island?"

"Me too. Yeah, turns out he wasn't a test tube baby after all. He's been helping Trowa, and to some extent Preventers, search through the Zodiac records for information on his family."

"And he came across the death of his mother that way?"

"And more he won't talk about. I don't know if that was a good thing to discover while helping, but now he knows."

"Trowa seems to care a lot for him," Heero commented.

"Good thing for both of them. Lean on one another, ya know?" And that's when it all came together for me. I saw Heero and me leaning on one another holding up a part of our relationship.

"Wufei feels the loss of his family deeply. His father was very strict and his mother—" He stopped at the car's door and walked around to stand very close to me. "What is it?"

"I love you."

He smiled, those blue eyes lost in crescents of cheeks. "I love you, too, Duo."

"Let's go to Atlas City," I said. My head was awhirl with plans, which weren't getting verbalized to him.

"We just got back from there. You have work in the morning. We should eat and you can drop me off at the palace."

I grasped his shoulders and made him look at me. "Let's go there because it's the nearest place where we can get married." It was fortunate that I had a grip on him, because his knees gave out. "Whoa, babe."

Gasp. He clenched my arms like steel forceps. "God, 'Ro, you okay? Didn't mean to put you into shock."

"Y-yes." He pulled himself together and started to say something more, when my cell phone interrupted us. I kept an arm around his waist while I answered the call.

"Hey, Duo here. What'sup? Who? Oh, yeah."

Heero met my eyes, searching for clues as to what had happened. I shrugged and mimed, "I don't know yet."

"The Claremont's, yeah. Now? Yeah, I can. Okay. Bye." I pocketed the phone. "That was their daughter. She asked if we could meet her at her house."

"Did she sound upset?"

"Not like bad news or anything, just hassled, I guess."

"Then we should go now."

I agreed and we drove across town again and up to the cemetery to park, because once again, I wouldn't leave a mortuary van on a narrow street like that.

"Hope all is well," he repeated.

"Me, too, but she didn't say it wasn't."

We didn't bring up the Atlas City topic at all. Not the best time to explain that wild moment.

When we arrived, a young woman was standing in the front yard. She shooed two toddlers inside with an older sister then came to the gate

"Are your parents okay?" That was all I wanted to know and had to get any bad news out of the way.

"Yes. Oh, I'm sorry to worry you. No, they're fine and happy in their new home with less to take care of."

"That's a relief."

"Sorry. It's just that they left me with instructions to contact you when the renter's lease was up."

Now I was confused. "What renters? Don't you live here?"

"I'm doing a bad job of explaining," she said. "Yes, I do. Mother thought you were looking for a place to buy. That may not be true. It's been a while and she can get confused."

"No, she was right and we're still house hunting. What's this all about?"

"Why don't I take you to see the cabin?"

"Cabin?" Heero whispered.

I lifted a shoulder, again miming my lack of knowledge.

"Okay," I answered.

"It was the original house on the property, and when Mom and Dad moved here they lived in it for two years while Dad built their house and his studio." The daughter wound her way down a long driveway which began at the street, ran alongside the one to the main house and then branched off and slightly uphill. The heavy growth of trees and shrubs hid the road completely from the street and the other houses in the neighborhood.

"I was going to move in, then I got married and we moved to another city, then we started having children and the cabin was too small. So, mom and dad leased it out."

"And the lease is up?" Heero asked.

"And the renters gone now, right?" I wanted that clear.

"Yes, of course. It's empty so I can show it to you. It's small."

It was small. A front room led to the kitchen opening to a pantry and from there the out of doors. Back inside, next to the kitchen was a hall with a bathroom and two bedrooms sprouting off on alternating sides, and a den. And that was the house.

Nothing mattered after we saw the den with its wall of windows providing a scenic view of the Sanc valley. All that light made it perfect for painting. I knew it and so did Heero.

It was our home.

"What are they asking for this? It is for sale, right? That's why you called? To sell it?" It had to be so.

"Yes. Mom said, 'call Duo Maxwell and if he likes the place give him and that lovely friend of his the envelope I sent you.' And here it it, for you."

I took it, but it handed directly to Heero. "You read it, please."

"All right." His beautiful blue eyes, the ones that stunned me from the start, left mine and scanned the page. Then he looked back up. "You are going to like this."

(o)

We sat in the car and looked at the papers in our hands, shaking with excitement.

"It's ours," he said.

"Unbelievable."

"We just have to get our signatures authenticated and file this in the morning. Duo, we have a house, that one. Are you sure—?"

"Sure? Sure I want it? Hell yes! Sure I want to share it with you? God, Heero, I wanted to go to Atlas City an hour ago and get married. Yes, I want to share it with you!"

His kiss melted into mine, sealing our new life. He had my shirt unbuttoned and a hand down my pants, but kissing in the dark in the parking lot of a cemetery began to creep my boyfriend out and he stopped.

"I want you, but back at my place. We can pack, call Trowa to get some time off, I have to—"

"Shh," I calmed him down a bit and dressed. "Okay, I'll take you home. Here's your jacket." I saw a lavender paper in the inner pocket. "What's that?"

"Oh, it skipped my mind entirely. Your card."

"Card? When did you have time to make this?"

"I had no time, so expect very little from it. It is the thought that counts this time."

"It always is, babe." It was blank on the cover so I opened it to read what he'd written in that beautiful script of his:

"_**I endeavor to prove to you that I am worthy of your heart; I can be trusted with it. You will never stand alone in this world while I live."**_

"Will you say this to me when we get married?" I asked.

"If you like. I can write more."

"Write for me. I want to echo these thoughts but in your words."

"All right, love. Whatever you want, but it will take me some time."

"Then we'd better get home quick," I said, chuckled and started the van.

(o)

Later on I went to brush my teeth. I looked into the mirror and saw reflected back at me my face and the yellow dusting of pollen on my nose. It had to be from smelling that buttercup. That meant all day long I'd been walking around with a yellow nose.

Heero. He'd done that on purpose, the bastard. What had I done? Oh, well, just a little teasing about him and his girly daisy chain. My braid! I pulled it around to the front and there it was-- Heero's …no… MY daisy chain. For God'ssakes I'd been wearing that in my hair all day too!

I called out to him. "You let me wear a yellow nose all day?! And flowers?! 'Ro? Stop laughing!"

Of course I couldn't stop laughing either; that is, until he whispered, "Yes."

Yes? Oh, yeeees.

"You'll go to Atlas City with me and get married tomorrow?"

"Yes."

I couldn't wait.

**End Chapter 39**

**The End to the Greeting Cards Monthly Series**

**Thank you for reading and all your support-- KS**

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